Unforgettable
by Jill2
Summary: This is AU in the worst way. No flames. You've been warned. No slayers, no vampires. No Sunnydale either. The characters we know are either cops, lawyers, PIs or their spouses. B/A!
1. Default Chapter

FIC: Unforgettable (1/?)  
Author: Jill  
Disclaimer: nope, still don't own them  
Pairing: B/A eventually  
Category: Romance/Angst/Drama  
Rating: PG-13 (for now)  
Distribution: my site (eventually), Land of Denial, AHA-Archive, if you have   
any of my stories, take it, anybody else, please tell me where it goes  
Spoilers: none  
Summary: completely AU, no vampires, no slayers, no Sunnydale; the   
characters we love are either cops, lawyers or PIs or their spouses and   
wives/husbands... and they all live in Los Angeles  
Feedback: oh yes, please!!!  
Dedication: For Angie, the bestest BETA  
  
  
Monday, August 14th, Los Angeles  
  
Alexander Harris yawned when he pushed against the swing door marking the   
entrance to the police department. A check of his watch assured him that he   
had every right to feel tired. It wasn't even eight o'clock in the morning.   
Damn Giles, he thought. Maybe it was a British thing to hold meetings at   
this early hour.  
  
His eyes still half-closed he almost bumped into someone who was coming from   
the bathroom. "Riley," he greeted his colleague who was looking wide-awake.   
How the guy always managed to be this alert was a mystery for Alexander   
Harris whom his friends just called Xander. "You're early as well."  
  
"Yeah," the blond replied nodding towards Rupert Giles' office door.  
  
"You're in the meeting too?" Xander raised his brows, "Oh man, must be   
something big."  
  
Riley merely shrugged and went towards his desk where a steaming cup of   
coffee was waiting for him. "How's Anya and the baby?" he asked taking a   
sip.  
  
A grin lit Xander's tired face, "Great. They're both great. The boy's   
growing so fast," he rolled his eyes, "And he eats... It's a miracle he   
isn't Schwarzenegger by now. And Anya just loves being a mother."  
  
"Good to hear," Riley sighed and sank into his chair. A frown appeared on   
his forehead while he was sipping from his coffee again.  
  
The same moment the door swung open again and revealed a striking brunette,   
dressed in the latest fashion, her makeup perfect, she lifted a hand to   
remove a strand of hair from her face, and the diamond engagement ring on   
her finger sparkled in the artificial light. Cordelia Chase was the new   
assistant District Attorney, and Xander Harris' high school sweetheart,   
although she sometimes tried really hard to forget about it.  
  
"Good Morning," she addressed the two police officers, one looking at her   
through narrowed eyes, the other grinning as always.  
  
"Cordy, darling," Xander walked over to her and greeted her with a friendly   
hug. After their breakup in high school they had been avoiding each other   
for a couple of years but now they had settled into a comfortable   
friendship, with Xander being happy in his marriage with Anya and Cordelia   
just recently engaged to a local PI. Alan Doyle was out of Cordelia's league   
as far as Xander was concerned, but they seemed to love each other and who   
was he to judge their choices. "I would say it's nice to see you, but   
considering the meeting the big boss has been scheduled for eight o'clock,   
I'm not so sure anymore."  
  
"Relax," she said, placing her briefcase on his desk. "This is just an   
informal meeting to discuss a case and an addition to the department."  
  
"An addition?" Xander raised a questioning brow. "What kind of addition?"  
  
She gave him a sweet smile, "Just wait and see," she said mysteriously.   
"You'll hear soon enough."  
  
"What are we waiting for anyway?" Riley stood and looked towards Giles'   
office. "He's been on the phone for ages."  
  
Now it was for Xander to narrow his eyes, "When exactly did you get up   
today?"  
  
"I came half an hour ago and the Captain was already there, already on the   
phone and he hasn't stopped ever since," the blond answered.  
  
"Morning," came a female voice from the door, sounding a bit breathless.   
"I'm not too late, am I," her eyes darted to the closed office door and   
instantly her posture relaxed, "Good. The traffic is absolutely terrible."  
  
"Calm down, Willow," Xander smiled at the redhead who held a laptop under   
her arm. Willow Rosenberg Osborne was the computer wizard of the department   
and the wife of his best friend, who was the owner of a specialized computer   
shop in West Hollywood. Other than that, they knew each other forever.   
They'd played together in pampers and Xander had been glad when Willow had   
joined the force three years ago.  
  
"Calm down?" she parroted. "Do you remember when I was late for a meeting   
two weeks ago? Giles made me write all the overdue reports in one day. No   
thank you, not again."  
  
"Well, you've already written them," Xander joked, grinning, "That means he   
can't really hurt you this time."  
  
"I'd rather not test your theory," she replied. "Where's Buffy?" she looked   
around, then her eyes fell on Riley.  
  
"Hey, don't ask me? We're only married, but we don't live with each other   
anymore, so why should I know where she is?" he shot back, not willing to   
speak about his wife, especially not to Willow, who was her best friend and   
confidante.  
  
"She should've dumped you a lot earlier, if you ask me," Cordelia said, her   
hip resting on the edge of Xander's desk.  
  
"Fortunately nobody has asked you," Riley replied acidly, his coffee   
suddenly tasting like soap. He knew that everyone in the department held him   
responsible for the failure that was his marriage. None of them had any idea   
what was really wrong with Buffy and he, but nobody was too shy to voice   
their opinion and that was, 'Riley is a bastard and Buffy a saint.'  
  
So okay, he had been seeing other women during the second half of his   
four-year marriage to the blonde, but had anyone asked him why he had done   
it? No. They had just pointed the finger at him, called him unfaithful and   
that made everything Buffy did all right. Even for Willow and Cordelia, her   
closest friends, he was the one responsible for the mess, although they at   
least should know better. But of course, for women, the man was always the   
one to blame and Riley in particular was such an easy target.  
  
Willow had been somewhat supportive to their relationship, at least at the   
beginning. Cordelia had called him a loser from the start. She had even   
refused to be a bridesmaid at their wedding, not willing to participate in   
something she was certain was doomed to fail. It really didn't help Riley to   
see that she'd been right. Cordelia Chase was a bitch. Period.  
  
"No but she should have," the brunette said studying her fingernails.   
"Because if she'd asked me, I would've told her to keep her hands off you.   
Would've spared her a lot of pain and grief, wouldn't it?"  
  
Riley clenched his hands into fists at his sides, "You think you're so   
clever, don't you," he hissed through gritted teeth, "I wouldn't be   
surprised to hear that you did everything to destroy our marriage."  
  
Cordelia let out a short, amused laugh, "There was no need to do anything.   
You did that all by yourself, my friend. I thought you were a loser," she   
shrugged, picking up her briefcase when she saw Giles opening the door of   
his office, "well," she walked towards the Captain and passing Riley she   
added, "we have the proof of it now, don't we?" Then she reached out a hand   
to Giles leaving the blond police officer fuming behind her.  
  
*  
  
Rupert Giles looked at the faces assembled in his office. Xander Harris,   
Riley Finn and Buffy Summers-Finn all police detectives he knew for many   
years now, Willow Rosenberg, the department computer specialist,   
indispensable for research, Mike Harmon, a young officer, just out of Police   
academy, Kate Lockley and Darla Massey, his senior detectives, both highly   
decorated officers. With both he worked in the field before he became   
Captain of the department.  
  
And there were more, Frank Williams, more a friend than just a co-worker,   
David Gadget, another long year police officer, and the most interesting   
pair of the department, Faith Henley and Drusilla Peterson, who were   
specialized in illegal substances.  
  
He trusted all of them with his life and yet, the Internal Affairs was sure   
that one of them was foul.  
  
Two weeks ago he'd gotten a call from Brent Harley, chief of the IA, telling   
him that they had proof that one of his officers had been playing with the   
bad guys. They had no name so far, but the informant had sworn that it was   
an officer of Giles' department and according to Brent Harley the informant   
was hundred percent reliable. That was also the reason the DA had sent his   
assistant to this morning's meeting. Cordelia Chase was familiar with the   
problem and most likely would be the attorney to pursue the case as soon as   
they knew who he or she was.  
  
But of course he couldn't tell them that they were suspecting one of them.   
Nor could he tell them the real reason they would get an addition to their   
team. "We need to talk," Giles began, looking at each one of them for a   
second. "The major is concerned about the increasing crime rate in this   
area," he said and ignored the sniggers coming from his officers.  
  
The crime-rate had been increasing for years and so far nobody had been   
interested. But it was a good reason to explain the two new officers quickly   
and so the DA and Internal Affairs had used the story. "I know, I know," he   
told them. "Big words and nothing happens, but not this time. It seems that   
at least someone understands that we need more officers to be more   
effective. So I wanted to see you in my office to tell you that we're   
getting two new colleagues."  
  
Surprised glances and murmurs were the reaction, Buffy looked at him   
quizzically, sensing somehow that it wasn't it. She was a lovely young woman   
who in Giles' opinion had married the wrong guy after being hurt by another   
and had paid dearly for it the last two years. She would hopefully be   
divorced soon, and even though Giles thought of himself as old-fashioned and   
liked marriages to last a long time, preferably forever. However in this   
case it was a blessing that they weren't living in the Middle Ages anymore.  
  
For her and for her alone Giles hadn't been happy with the officers Internal   
Affairs had chosen to investigate. She'd had enough heartache to last for a   
lifetime and he wasn't sure she would be too pleased to see the man again   
who had been the cause for a fair share. But Internal Affairs didn't discuss   
their choices, and Giles knew he was lucky that they had even bothered to   
inform him so thoroughly about their plans.  
  
"Do we know them?" Willow finally asked the dreaded question.  
  
"Only one of them. They've been working in New York for the last years, but   
they'll be moving to L.A. and will start working here on Wednesday."  
  
"Well," the redhead looked at him expectantly, "Who are they? What are their   
names?"  
  
"Their names," Giles paused shortly, locking his eyes with Buffy's, "are   
William Stevens and Angel Reardon."  
  
****  
  
Monday, August 14th, NEW YORK  
  
"I still can't believe you agreed to do this," William Stevens rubbed his   
forehead then reached for the coffee. "I always thought you were so glad to   
escape L.A. and all the mess there."  
  
Angel frowned, closing the file lying on his desk, "I was. Or rather, I   
thought I was. But to tell you the truth, I'm not so sure going back is the   
best idea. But Internal Affairs calls and we go."  
  
"Yeah, straight across the whole damned country. Why on earth did I ever   
leave England?" William, by everyone known as Spike, a remnant of his school   
days when he used to wear his hair in spikes, shook his head.  
  
"Beats me," Angel chuckled, leaning back in his chair.  
  
"Yeah, yeah," Spike reached into his pocket for a cigarette then remembered   
he wasn't supposed to smoke in the department. "Why are we doing this?" he   
leaned forward, looking his partner straight in the eye. "Tell me, why was   
Internal Affairs so after you in this?"  
  
"Because I was close to the people there. I know the officers in the   
department, but I've been away for four years so they think I'm not too   
close either *and* they see you as a good addition being objective as you   
don't know a soul there."  
  
"Still, I'm not really looking forward to those California Sunnyboys. New   
York is bad enough the way it is, but L.A.? If it was for a vacation I might   
even find the idea tempting, you know, lying on the beach, watching all   
those long, tanned legs and sorry excuses for a bikini, but this," he shook   
his head again, "This really sucks."  
  
"You're incorrigible," Angel laughed and tilted his head. "L.A. isn't that   
bad, you know." Spike had been assigned as his partner shortly after he   
arrived in New York. Born in England, he had worked for Interpol for two   
years and got stuck in New York when he fell in love with a girl. The   
relationship was non-existent anymore but Spike had stayed in the Big Apple,   
already too addicted to the city. And Angel was glad, because the blond was   
the best partner he'd ever had and they had saved each other's hide more   
than once.  
  
Spike smiled at him, then looked suddenly thoughtful, "And you're sure   
you're up to this?" he asked. "Seeing her again," he clarified. He'd   
wondered about the way Angel had avoided women, hadn't dated when they'd   
first met. Not that he dated a lot as it was, but at the beginning the   
dark-haired officer had been a recluse, a loner, not interested in a   
relationship at all, had even been distant towards his partner.  
  
Spike had sensed that there had to be reason for his partner's behavior, and   
for the deep sadness in his eyes. But it had been more than a year before   
Angel had confided in him about the tragic love story in L.A. that had   
finally caused him to move to New York, far away from the woman he loved but   
could no longer have.  
  
"It's been more than four years, Spike," Angel, replied, "Besides, she's   
happily married, so she's off limits to begin with. And maybe it's time to   
face all that again, to finally put an end to it and move on."  
  
The blond officer tilted his head and studied his partner and friend for a   
long while, then he lifted his cup, "Alright then," he said, "L.A. here we   
come."  
  
*****  
  
Friday, August 18th, Los Angeles  
  
  
"There you are." With a heavy groan Willow let herself sink into the wooden   
chair of "Drinks and Kinks", the favorite snack shop of the whole   
department. The owner, Cara, a lady in her fifties, was an original, always   
dressed up as if preparing for an audition, but she served the best food   
around and the prices were still reasonable, which was practically a   
miracle. Willow looked at her best friend who was sitting across her, eyeing   
the redhead with an amused expression. "What?" she asked confused.  
  
"Nothing," Buffy grinned. "You're just adorable if you look all messed up   
and upset."  
  
"Oh, thank you so much," the redhead replied sarcastically. "I feel so much   
better now. God, it's hot today," she groaned again, then took her napkin   
and used it as a fan for some seconds. "What I really need is a shower, but   
of course no such luck. No, instead I'm stuck with this damned net search.   
It's amazing I could escape for lunch." She took a deep breath, then smiled,   
"And how's your day?"  
  
The blond laughed, "Not as bad as yours, but I've had better," she admitted,   
sipping her coke. "This Philips-case, you know, the woman was killed in her   
bedroom, everyone suspects the husband, but he swears he didn't do it." She   
shook her head and put her glass down. She saw her friend nod and went on,   
"Well, the husband was - is - ten years younger than his wife who has grown   
up kids. Three of them. Women. No, let me rewind that. Bitches."  
  
The redhead grimaced, "That bad, huh?"  
  
"Worse," Buffy said, leaning back in her chair. "I-"  
  
"Now, how are my favorite officers?" Cara came to stand beside their table   
and flashed them a big, wholehearted smile. The sturdy woman who had been   
born in Alabama had made L.A. her home 20 years ago, and Buffy honestly   
wasn't sure if the city would be the same without her. "What can I get you?   
Are you up for some cholesterol-intake or on a diet again?"  
  
"Aren't we always?," Willow sighed. "I just have to look at ice cream and   
gain a pound or two." Buffy nodded emphatically.  
  
"Girls," Cara began.  
  
"Girls!" both officers parroted. "Hardly," the blond said, making a face.   
"We both hit the big three-zero this year. That means each pound counts   
twice."  
  
"Girls," Cara said again, her voice firm. "I'm almost twice your age, so you   
two are just young birds for me, barely out of the diapers. But I agree,   
today isn't the temperature for some heavy, fatty, tasty," she grinned when   
she saw the other's were groaning, "Yeah, yeah, I've got it. Two salads for   
the police-ladies. Have a nice day you two."  
  
"You too, Cara," Buffy smiled. "You're a jewel, you know."  
  
The older woman laughed throatily, "Oh Buffy, besides my husband you always   
say the nicest things." With a swing of her full hips she made her way   
towards the kitchen.  
  
"She really is something," Willow laughed as well. "What a woman!"  
  
"Oh yeah. Cara is the greatest. Nothing would be the same without her. I   
don't even want to think she might be to old one day to do this," she   
motioned towards the whole restaurant.  
  
"Unthinkable," the redhead agreed, then suddenly remembered their   
interrupted conversation. "So the wo- I mean the bitches make the whole   
thing difficult?"  
  
"You can say that. Privately," Buffy leaned forward, her voice merely a   
whisper, "I think they have the hots for the step-daddy and who could blame   
them. He looks as if he's right out of one of these high-quality magazines.   
Anyways. I suppose they envied mom for being at the receiving end of his   
charms while they could only watch from a distance. If the neighbors are   
right, their... uh... bedroom was quite... used," she grinned and winked at   
her friend.  
  
"Uh-oh, I see. So mom and step-dad weren't just platonic with each other."  
  
"If we can trust the neighbors, quite the opposite. One of the old ladies   
living across the yard swears she even saw them going at it beside the pool.   
Of course she was embarrassed when Xander asked her how she knew about it.   
You have to know that lady is close to the eighties."  
  
Willow burst out laughing. "If you should ever write your memoirs..." she   
joked.  
  
"Oh yeah. That would be interesting, but I suppose most of it is not for   
public use," she sighed again. "Oh, Willow, it is so good to laugh with   
you."  
  
"Not so much of it this week, huh?" the redhead said compassionately.  
  
"Well," Buffy rested her elbows on the edge of the table, "First this little   
bomb Giles dropped on us on Monday, then a really nice meeting with Riley   
and his lawyer on Tuesday. I swear, if you had seen him there, all innocent   
and like the good boy from Iowa, you wouldn't believe he was cheating on me   
for over two years. This puppy dog expression - it's a miracle I wasn't   
arrested for murder so far."  
  
"That bad, huh?"  
  
"Yeah," the blond let out a long breath and played with the napkin. "Of   
course the fact that Angel will be coming back didn't help either. I think   
Riley dreads it more than I."  
  
Willow looked at her friend with understanding. She'd been there when all   
the drama had been enfolding more than four years ago. Angel and Buffy had   
met when he was assigned to a case she'd been working on for weeks. And   
they'd fallen for each other hard and fast. But then things had happened that   
drove them apart and Riley, who had fallen in love with Buffy as well, had   
seen his chance and grabbed it with both hands. Buffy, vulnerable and hurt,   
had been in need of someone to lean on to and when Riley had offered help,   
she took it. Nobody had expected them to marry, but it had happened, almost   
over night. The day of the wedding Angel had left Los Angeles. And everyone   
had thought it was for good.  
  
But now he was coming back. More than four years had passed since they'd   
seen each other but nobody doubted that there was still something between   
Buffy and Angel. Their doomed relationship had been too intense, the sparks   
had been flying high and strong, nobody expected it to die that easily. Like   
nobody had expected for the marriage between Buffy and Riley to work. And   
they had been right. The divorce was only a matter of time and of working   
out the details, although Riley sometimes forgot about it and behaved as if   
he was still happily married to Buffy. Especially when other males seemed to   
be interested in her.  
  
Considering all this, the next weeks promised to become quite interesting.  
  
"I wonder why he's coming back," Buffy mused playing with her napkin again.   
"I mean he left L.A. as if the hellhounds were after him four years ago and   
now he's coming back. Wham! Just like that," she snapped her fingers. "It   
just doesn't... I dunno, does it seem..." she shrugged, not finding the   
right word.  
  
"Well, he's grown up here. Maybe he just misses home," Willow said   
thoughtfully. "I would miss L.A. if I had to move."  
  
"But-," Buffy lifted her shoulders in a helpless gesture, "Do you think,"   
she frowned, her eyes cast downward, "Do you think it'll be awkward?"  
  
"Oh, Buffy," the redhead reached over the table and took her friend's hand.   
"Don't blame yourself again for what's happened. It's over and done with, no   
reason to dwell on the past."  
  
"I know," the blond replied, "And we both made mistakes, mistook lust for   
love and stuff, but... well, the day of my wedding when he suddenly stood in   
my room in the church. God, he looked so... lost," she stifled a sob, and   
then took a deep breath to steady herself. "Do you think I did wrong?" there   
was a quiver in her voice.  
  
"Wrong?" Willow tilted her head, then shrugged, "Marrying Riley you mean?   
Well, given the situation the answer isn't that difficult, but going back   
four years, I honestly don't know. The situation was complicated-"  
  
"Complicated is a big, huge, understatement. I'd rather call it a disaster,"   
Buffy interrupted her, and then released a heavy breath. "God, Willow, I   
just don't know how to act around him. How's it going to be? Will he hate   
me? Despise me? Ignore me?" **Please, I don't want him to ignore me. And where   
the hell did that come from?**  
  
"I think we'll just have to wait and see," her friend said calmly, studying   
the blond thoughtfully. Yes, the tension was definitely still there. Buffy   
had been a master of denial throughout the last four years, suppressing even   
the thought of Angel. Cordelia had once said that it was a sure sign she was   
far from over him, Willow hadn't believed her then, but now she wasn't so   
sure anymore.  
  
At the beginning Riley and Buffy had looked right. She'd been down, defeated   
after all the drama with Angel and he seemed to be the right guy - at least   
in Willow's eyes. She had even liked Riley when all their friends had looked   
at him as if he was a bug. Especially Cordelia, Faith and Dru. The three   
women never left a good hair on Buffy's husband.  
  
Maybe she should've listened to them, Willow thought now with regret, maybe   
they all should've tried to persuade Buffy to wait. She should've   
particularly listened to Faith who had been Riley's girlfriend for three   
years before he had started to develop an interest in Buffy. Her theories   
about why Riley was courting the blond had been terrible and Willow could   
remember shouting at her, accusing her of being jealous. Faith had laughed,   
shaking her head. You'll see, she'd said and now they did.  
  
And how would Angel react seeing Buffy *and* Riley again. Willow had always   
guessed that part of his anger about what was going on between the two had   
been due to the fact that it was Riley in particular, who was going after   
Buffy. Maybe he wouldn't have reacted the way he had if it had been another   
man? But Riley? With an inward sigh she tried to push all those heavy   
thoughts aside.  
  
"Here you go," Cara appeared at their table again, carrying two plates and   
placed in front of the women.  
  
Buffy groaned, "How am I going to eat this?" she raised her brows at Cara.  
  
"Hey, it's just salad," the older woman said, grinning. "And besides you   
could use a little weight on your ribs. Too much grief isn't good for you,"   
she added with compassion in her voice.  
  
"Anger," the blond replied tasting the salad, "Mmmm, good," she sighed   
contently. "It's anger, not grief," she clarified her first reply. "I've   
long ago stopped grieving over Riley."  
  
Cara glanced quickly at Willow who was looking at the two other woman with   
interest, then she reached out and patted Buffy's shoulder, "It's not Riley   
I'm talking about," she said looking intently at the blond. Then she turned   
and left the two to their meals.  
  
****  
  
Saturday, August 19th, Los Angeles  
  
"I can't believe that you persuaded me to help you with this," Doyle groaned   
lifting another piece of furniture. "Where the hell is all this stuff coming   
from?" he asked while he squeezed himself into the elevator and pressing the   
right button.  
  
"I had it all in storage," Angel replied, leaning against the wall. "I left   
in quite a hurry and there was no way I could take all this with me, so I   
rented some space for it."  
  
"And why didn't you just leave it there?" the PI asked. "It's really old   
stuff if you ask me."  
  
"It is," the other man agreed, "the chairs, the table, even the bed I   
inherited from my parents. And yeah, it's old-fashioned too, but I can't   
just throw it away, there are too many memories..." he trailed off, suddenly   
feeling a bit embarrassed.  
  
The elevator-door opened at the sixth floor and when the door was pulled   
open Doyle almost stumbled out, "Hey," he complained.  
  
"Calm down," came the voice of his fiancée. "And don't be a wimp. Hi Angel,"   
she smiled at the man. "Nice to see you again."  
  
"Cordelia," he smiled back, not quite sure how to act around her. She was   
one of Buffy's best friends and knew all about their breakup. She hadn't   
said a word back then, but of course he had no way of knowing how she   
thought about the things that had happened between them. And now she was   
engaged to Doyle - something he hadn't expected in his wildest dreams - his   
best friend. If Cordelia blamed him for all the things in the past, this   
situation could become very awkward. More so as she was one of the few people who   
knew exactly about his job in L.A.  
  
"How did you get here?" Doyle asked her, kissing her lightly on the lips.  
  
"I used the second elevator," she replied, her eyes still fixed on Angel.   
"My, my," she grinned, "you've certainly grown up," she said. "Working out,   
huh?"  
  
"What?" Angel stared at her. Cordelia Chase had always been full of   
surprises and again she'd managed to confuse him. "Grown up? Hardly," he   
said dryly. "Considering the fact that I'm 35 years old, I was hardly a   
child when I left."  
  
"I know that," she replied rolling her eyes, "but some people just get   
older," she remarked, "you on the other hand, *matured*."  
  
Doyle looked back and forth between the two of them, "Is there a reason I   
should get jealous now?" he asked good-naturedly. "Because I don't know how   
much I like the idea of you adoring another member of the male species so   
openly."  
  
Cordelia laughed slightly, then cupped his cheek in one of her hands, "Calm   
down, honey. I love you. But that doesn't mean I'm blind all of a sudden. I   
always thought Angel was attractive, yet I never even considered him as a   
possible candidate of my affections."  
  
"I wonder if should feel insulted now," Angel joked.  
  
"No need," she shot back. "The problem was you were always so wrapped up in   
Buffy, there just wasn't a chance... and I just put my foot right into my   
mouth, didn't I," she said apologetically. "Sorry."  
  
"It's alright," he touched her shoulder and squeezed it. "You don't need to   
avoid her name around me. I know she lives here, I knew it from the start,   
when I considered moving back here, working back here. She's with Riley now,   
she chose him, and she loves him. End of story. I have come to terms with   
that."  
  
"Does that mean you don't know," she raised her brows, her eyes darting to   
Doyle who shook his head. "He didn't tell you?" she asked incredulously.  
  
"No I didn't," Doyle confirmed, "We never talked about her, he never asked   
and I-"  
  
"Would anybody please tell me, what this is all about," Angel said   
irritated, "What's the big secret?"  
  
"No secret," Cordelia said with a little wistful smile playing around her   
lips, "It's just that Buffy is right in the middle of sending that little   
scum where he belongs or in more common terms, they're right in the middle   
of a divorce. It's just a matter of arrangements, but it should soon be   
over. I guess in about four weeks she'll be a free woman again."  
  
******  
  
Monday, August 21st, Los Angeles  
  
Angel swore when the doorbell rang at seven o'clock in the morning. It   
wasn't that he was late, but half of his face was covered in shaving foam -   
he could never get used to automatic razors - and all that covered his naked   
body was a tiny sort of towel, carelessly slang around his waist after a   
long, refreshing shower. Summers in New York could be hot, but it didn't   
hold a candle to heat of L.A. during the last few days.  
  
The doorbell rang again, more impatiently this time, and he swore again,   
"Coming," he shouted from the bathroom. Emerging from it he ran over to his   
bedroom, fishing his denims from a chair and pulling them on. Not bothering   
to close the fly, he went for the door, the discarded towel now hanging   
around his neck. "Yeah," he said, the annoyance clearly audible in his voice   
when he pulled the door open.  
  
And froze.  
  
"Cordelia?!" It wasn't so much the fact that the fiancée of his best friend   
was standing right in front of him, although that was usually irritating   
enough, but the fact that she was already perfectly dressed, her make-up and   
hair perfectly coiffed as if straight from one of the high-color fashion   
magazines.  
  
"Good Morning," she smiled brightly, then without asking pushed past him and   
entered his apartment, the high heels of her shoes clicking on the wooden   
floor.  
  
"Cordelia," he repeated her name.  
  
"You said that before. Have I changed so much since Saturday that you've got   
difficulties recognizing me?" she raised one of her eyebrows, "Nice outfit,"   
she remarked, her eyes roaming over his bare torso, the open fly of his   
jeans, and his bare feet, then back up to rest on his face that, one side   
shaven and smooth, the other white with the foam. "Not quite awake, are we?"  
  
"Bloody hell, what's going on out there, what's with the commotion?" Spike   
stumbled from one of the bedrooms, eyes blinking sleepily against the   
morning sun, the only piece of clothes covering him a pair of boxer shorts.   
"Oh, what a surprise, the lovely Miss Chase," a grin spread over his face,   
while he rubbed his eyes.  
  
"Now, there is a greeting I would call polite," Cordelia shot Angel a nasty   
look.  
  
"You two can talk, I need to get the stuff from my face," the dark-haired   
man said, disappearing in the bathroom.  
  
"He's always a bit grumpy in the morning," the blond remarked, letting his   
still tired body glide into a seat.  
  
"Oh," Cordelia's eyebrow rose again, "Is that so?" Crossing her arms in   
front of her chest she said loud enough so that Angel could hear as well,   
"You know, I never pictured you living with a man." She grinned at Spike who   
laughed out loud.  
  
"Really funny," Angel returned from the bathroom, now the other side of his   
face clean as well, the jeans closed up, but the torso was still bare. "Go   
and make yourself useful," he told his friend. "Make coffee."  
  
"Yeah, yeah," Spike muttered and struggled to stand up, "You want some   
coffee as well."  
  
"That would be very nice," Cordelia gave him a bright smile that made him   
grin and Angel roll his eyes.  
  
"So," he grabbed a shirt from the sofa and pulled it over his head, then he   
asked, "Why are you here?"  
  
"We need to talk," she replied, her face suddenly all business, "About the   
case. And I'd rather not do this at work. And as long as Mr. Stevens lives   
with you, I get you both at the same time."  
  
"Call me Spike," the blond man returned from the kitchen. "Coffee's   
running," he informed his friend, then looked back at Cordelia, "Each time   
you call me Mr. Stevens I tend to turn and look to check if my father's   
standing behind me."  
  
"Spike it is," she suddenly frowned, "Spike? Is that actually your name? No,"   
she shook her head almost talking to herself, "I remember reading William.   
So why Spike?"  
  
"Long story," he shrugged, patting towards his bedroom. "I need to put some   
clothes on, can't have you drooling in public over my gorgeous body," he   
said, rummaging through his still not emptied bag to find something that   
wasn't in desperate need to ironing.  
  
"Big ego, huh?" Cordelia turned towards Angel who was standing across the   
room.  
  
"Not really," he grinned at his friend's bedroom. "He's okay. Best partner I   
ever had. But he's a ladies man."  
  
"What can I say," Spike returned wearing denims as well and a pale green   
shirt. Running one hand through his tousled hair, he went towards the   
kitchen and Cordelia could hear him getting cups and the coffee, "they love   
me. I always hoped it would be infective, but my friend Angel here," he came   
back carrying a loaded tray, "he's a lost case. The dates he had in New York   
I could count on one hand."  
  
"I really don't think my dating-habits are of interest here," Angel shot his   
friend a warning glance.  
  
"On the contrary," Cordelia directed interested eyes on Spike, "I think the   
subject is fascinating." **I wonder what Buffy says if she hears that. A guy   
like Angel, avoiding dating.**  
  
"Possibly," the dark-haired man said, pouring first her and then himself a   
cup of coffee, then pointed at the sofa. "Sit down and then tell me what you   
want to talk about. What about the case? I thought we just go there today,   
see what's going on, and then find the bad guy."  
  
"Yes, that's the plan," she agreed, "but I thought some more information   
might be in order."  
  
"You were here on Saturday, why didn't you tell us then?" Angel asked.  
  
"Oh, please. That was my weekend. My weekend is off-limits. No work on   
weekends, no talk about work."  
  
"So you prefer to get up at, what, six on Mondays?" Spike raised an   
inquiring brow.  
  
She shrugged slightly, and then sipped from her coffee. "Wow, that's good,"   
she complimented.  
  
"Not really surprising. If I can recall Doyle said your coffee could wake   
the dead, because of horror."  
  
She narrowed her eyes, "He said that? Good to hear. Well, coming back to the   
matter at hand. There are some things you need to know. I informed Captain   
Giles about the real reason you're here, first because your job will be much   
easier if he understands what's going on and secondly, we're sure he isn't   
the one we're searching for."  
  
"I thought you didn't know who he or she was, how can you know then that he   
isn't," Spike raised his cup and watched Cordelia over the rim.  
  
"No, I agree with her," Angel crossed his arms, "Giles is clean. He would   
never do something like that. He's... It's just not possible."  
  
Cordelia smiled, "Plus we've checked all his accounts, his schedule. If he's   
the person, he would have to be supernatural. No, Giles isn't the one. But I   
am going to tell you we have several suspects. There's Frank Williams. His   
wife recently had very expensive surgery and needs physiotherapy now. Mike   
Harmon is new at the department. He's in love with the daughter of a rich   
man, maybe in need to impress his future in-law. David Gadget is in debt way   
over his head."  
  
"I can't imagine David Gadget..." Angel shook his head, "but I suppose   
everything is possible if money is involved."  
  
"Yeah, I suppose," Cordelia agreed, "Darla Massey had a huge sum of money   
transferred to her bank-account, just recently, although we think with her   
intelligence it's strange she wouldn't be more careful if the money wasn't   
clean. Still..." her serious eyes rested on Angel. "I know you and she were   
close."  
  
"Emphasis on 'were'. Whatever was between Darla and I is long over and done   
with. It was that way even four years ago. After it was over we weren't even   
friends anymore. Just polite acquaintances."  
  
"Good to hear," she took another sip from her coffee, "And then there's   
Drusilla Peterson."  
  
Spike almost choked on his coffee, "What sort of name is *Drusilla*?" he   
asked with incredulous eyes.  
  
"An old-fashioned one," Angel replied. "It's a tradition in her family."  
  
"Angel took her under his wings when she was a rookie," Cordelia explained.  
  
"Under your wings, huh? Attractive?" Spike wiggled his eyebrows, not hiding   
what he thought.  
  
Angel narrowed his eyes at him, "I'm not you," he growled. "That might be   
your way, but it's certainly not mine."  
  
"What did I say?" the blond man directed his gaze at the assistant DA,   
"Boring. And now I'm living with this guy. I can only hope that *he* isn't   
infective."  
  
"So, what's this about Drusilla? I will never believe she worked with the   
other side. She lost her parents in a car bombing from the drug mafia. She   
would never change sides," Angel put his cup down.  
  
"Nothing is clear so far," Cordelia said quietly. "But she suddenly had new   
clothes, a new car, a brand-new apartment and we couldn't find the source of   
this new wealth." She frowned, not quite sure how to continue, knowing that   
the mere mention of the name could push Angel over the edge. "Uh... and   
there's Riley Finn."  
  
"Finn?" Angel's brows shot up.  
  
"Is it Finn these days? It was Riley four years ago," Cordelia tilted her   
head.  
  
"A lot happened since then."  
  
"Yeah, it did," she agreed. "I'm okay with Finn. It's not as if I like the   
guy. I never understood what Buffy saw in him," she raised her hands, "okay,   
okay, I'm not starting this. Not now anyway. But he's... I dunno... behaving   
strange lately. I'm not quite sure how to say this, but he had... ladies...   
over the last two years. Expensive ones."  
  
"Ladies?" Angel's eyebrows almost touched his hairline.  
  
"Whores, my friend or are you dense," Spike grinned.  
  
"Whores?" the dark-haired man stood up in a swift movement, began to pace   
the room, "He had whores? For two years?"  
  
"Yeah," Cordelia confirmed. "He used to visit certain... houses... with some   
friends. Used to blame it on her, you know, what they say. She wouldn't love   
him enough, care enough for his needs and this stuff. Slimy, little bastard.   
Oh, I would be so glad if it was him. Nothing more satisfying than to nail   
his sorry little ass."  
  
"Wow," Spike grinned even more, "I really wouldn't like to cross you."  
  
"Just so you know," she shot back, but grinned as well.  
  
"God, I can't believe that," Angel stopped his pacing and ran a hand through   
his hair. "Did she know?" he asked.  
  
"I thought you didn't want to talk about this," Cordelia replied, but when   
she saw his glare, she raised her hands again. "Okay, okay. No, not at the   
beginning. Or maybe she did, but didn't want to believe what kind of person   
he was. Riley is scum, Angel. I know he was your friend. I know you've known   
him all your life and -"  
  
"That's the past," the dark-haired man said, reclaiming his seat, "I had the   
opportunity to have an insight into his inner-self. And believe me, it   
wasn't pleasant what I found. So, yeah, I thought he was my friend, I didn't   
want to believe Faith when she told me he was jealous of me, only to realize   
that he envied me all my life." He released a breath, ran his hand through   
his hair again.  
  
"Alright," Spike looked back and forth between the two, "I know there was   
this thing between you and Buffy. And I know this Riley guy is married to   
her."  
  
"That's only for about four more weeks," Cordelia threw in.  
  
"Whatever," the blond man continued, "But you and him were friends?" he   
asked Angel.  
  
"Yeah," the other man confirmed, "We've known each other all our lives. His   
family lived next door to mine. We went to high school together, played in   
the same football team-"  
  
"Where Angel was the quarterback and Riley was just a substitute," Cordelia   
remarked dryly to make a point.  
  
"I get the picture," Spike said.  
  
"Yeah, well," Angel rubbed his forehead. "Then we went to college, to the   
police academy, then got to work in the same department, and I never once   
realized what was eating him up. The guy saved my neck time and time again."  
  
"And you saved his," Cordelia reminded him.  
  
"Wait a second," the blond man's interested eyes rested on his friend, "You   
said you were friends, but is there something I didn't know?"  
  
"Yeah," Angel nodded. "What you don't know is that Riley and I were   
partners."  
  
  
to be continued 


	2. Chapter 2

Unforgettable - Part 2  
By Jill  
  
The precinct hadn't changed very much, Angel noticed the moment he and Spike   
stepped through the swinging doors, only half an hour after their unexpected   
meeting with Cordelia at Angel's apartment. She wouldn't meet with them in   
public she'd told them, and that they should get used to her dropping by   
like that. Angel groaned at the mere thought. Well, he would have to get   
used to it. Cordelia was the assistant DA and not some snotty law student   
anymore, he could tease. Plus she was still Buffy's friend and although she   
hadn't mentioned their break-up, he'd heard the underlying accusation that   
if it wasn't for him, Buffy wouldn't have looked at Riley Finn.  
  
It wasn't fair, of course. Riley Finn had never been part of the deal, only   
later he'd become one. Unexpected and for that so much more painful. Angel   
hadn't just lost the woman he loved, but to a man who he thought to be his   
friend, whom he'd told about his feelings towards Buffy, whom he'd trusted   
and who had betrayed him. So much for friendship, Angel thought, frowning at   
the name tab on Riley's desk with disgust. Then a sardonic smirk crossed his   
features. His so-called friend had gotten Buffy, but he had lost her too,   
after only four short years. What a bummer.  
  
The office rooms were still empty, but for the ever-present Captain Rupert   
Giles, who was already sitting in his private office, a lamp illuminating   
his desk, he was reading files, hadn't heard them so far.  
  
"This is really a very... shabby... room," Spike remarked, crossing his   
arms.  
  
Angel grinned at his comment, "Not that the one in New York was so much   
better."  
  
"No," the blond sighed, and then nodded towards Giles' office. "That the big   
boss?"  
  
"Yeah," his friend replied. "We really should say hello." Saying it, he   
already walked towards the closed door and after knocking he entered.  
  
Giles looked up from the papers he'd been reading, his face breaking into a   
smile as if seeing a long lost son, "Angel, how good to see you," he stood   
and extended a hand, shaking the other man's warmly. "And that has to be Mr.   
Stevens?"  
  
"Yeah, that's me," Spike said, extending his hand as well. "But please,   
everyone calls me Spike."  
  
"Spike?" Giles raised a brow, but didn't comment it. "It's good you're   
early. I would like to have a word with you before everyone arrives. Please,   
close the door."  
  
Grinning Spike sat, looking at the older man speculatively, "Which part of   
good old England do you come from?"  
  
Giles smiled, "Oxfordshire," he replied, "And you?"  
  
"What do you think? London, of course. No breed's alike."  
  
The Captain's brow rose again, "What brought you over?"  
  
Spike shrugged, and then grinned, "Fell in love, didn't work out, got stuck.   
As simple as that."  
  
"Or not," Angel said, giving his friend a long, knowing look. Spike's   
break-up with his girlfriend had been everything but easy. The blond might   
look like a womaniser, and he was certainly behaving like one too, but deep   
down he had been deeply hurt by Cathleen's refusal to marry him, and now   
avoided relationships that could become too serious. His entire flippant   
attitude, and his open charm was nothing but a shield to prevent himself   
from being hurt again.  
  
"Yeah, or not," Spike agreed on a released breath, clearly not liking his   
friend's insight. "Well," his light smile back in place he looked at Giles,   
"What did you want to talk to us about?"  
  
The Captain looked back and forth between the two men, and crossed his arms   
in front of his chest and leaned back, "I'm not happy with this   
investigation," he began and when he saw Angel was about to speak he held up   
a hand, "but of course I understand it's necessary." Releasing a breath he   
hadn't even realized he'd been holding, he shook his head, "I still can't   
believe that one my officers might be playing dirty. God, this makes me   
feeling so sick. Most of them I know many years, some of them," he focused   
on Angel, "are like children to me."  
  
"I know," the dark-haired man nodded. This time a long look passed between   
Angel and Giles, a look Spike didn't quite understand, but he made a mental   
note to ask his friend later.  
  
Taking a deep breath, the Captain took a file from the table and handed it   
two the two officers. "Maybe we should start with you reading this," he   
suggested.  
  
*  
  
"But this is good news." Buffy looked at her redheaded friend when they   
entered the precinct five minutes later.  
  
"It is," Willow said hesitantly, "It really is, but... not now. You see Oz   
and I... we always... Buffy?" She stopped when she saw her friend wasn't   
following her anymore and turned. "What is it?"  
  
Buffy stood very still, her body rigid, her breath shallow, her eyes fixed   
on Giles' office, where you could see the people sitting there in the light   
of his desk lamp. Willow followed the blonde's look and froze as well. "Oh   
Buffy," she sent her girlfriend a compassionate glance, then stepped towards   
her, "But we already knew he would be here."  
  
"I know," Buffy managed to croak, "But... for the first time it's real. I   
can't lie to myself anymore and say it's just a bad dream."  
  
"Yeah," the redhead agreed and took the blonde's arm. "Come on, let's get   
going. The others should be here in a moment and you wouldn't want anyone to   
find you staring like this, would you?"  
  
"Staring at whom?" came a voice from behind them.  
  
"What do you think?" Willow turned slightly and glared at her childhood   
friend. It had to be Anya's influence, the redhead decided. Xander's wife   
was the most tactless person she'd ever met, and somehow it seemed to rub on   
Xander as well.  
  
"Oh, the ex is back," he said, his voice holding a certain note. "Who's the   
blond guy?"  
  
"I suppose it's William Stevens."  
  
"Oh, they're here," Drusilla, accompanied by Faith, were entering the   
precinct as well. The raven-haired woman's face lit up, while her brunette   
partner wrinkled her nose.  
  
"Well, let the drama unfold, I say," Faith joked and sauntered to her desk,   
ignoring the newcomers completely. She wasn't the kind of person to   
participate in mass hysteria. Okay, so it wasn't exactly hysteria, four   
people staring through a glass window, but still she didn't like that. She   
would greet Angel later in private.  
  
"Spoil sport," Xander grinned at her retreating back. She snorted over her   
shoulder, but he could see her shoulders moving with silent laughter.  
  
"Hey," Drusilla put a hand on Willow's shoulder, "the guy with Angel, is   
that William Stevens?"  
  
"I would think so," the redhead replied, eyeing the black-haired woman very   
closely. "Why?"  
  
"Oh," Drusilla battered her lashes, then quickly looked to the ground, "No   
special reason."  
  
"Drusilla?" Willow's voice held a certain warning.  
  
"What?" the other woman asked. "I think he's cute, that's all."  
  
"Cute?" Buffy and Willow asked unison, something similar to panic in their   
eyes. "Dru, you know, the last time you thought a guy was cute..." Buffy   
trailed off.  
  
"You always think they're cute," Xander added pointedly.  
  
"Oh, shut up," she said, "How could I know that last guy was a drug dealer?   
No, I couldn't." It hadn't been her fault, had it? So, okay, she fell in   
love easily, and out of it, and yeah, it had caused problems, mainly her   
crying the whole night, calling her friends at four o'clock in the morning,   
throwing away all her clothes, because they reminded her of her lost love.   
But, hey, life was short, and where was the fun if no one was falling in   
love. Maybe, one day she would find the one who'd stick, she thought and   
couldn't help the bitter feeling that rose inside of her. She suppressed it   
quickly and tilted her head. "Still, he's cute. He dyes his hair."  
  
"You like guys who dye their hair?" Xander asked disbelievingly. "Don't you   
think it's a bit ... uh ... unmanly?"  
  
"No, absolutely not," Drusilla replied, "It's fun and-"  
  
"Cute, we know," Willow finished her sentence, making a dismissing gesture   
with her hand.  
  
The same moment the three men inside the office rose from their chairs and   
only a second later the door opened and stepped out into the main room.   
"Ah," Giles smiled at the officers who had arrived by now. "Good, you're   
here. Most of you will remember Angel, but this gentleman," he pointed at   
the blond, "is William Stevens who has asked to be called Spike," he added   
with a grin.  
  
"Ooooh, that's so cute," Drusilla whispered, making the others roll their   
eyes.  
  
*****  
  
It was strange being in the same room with him again, Buffy thought half an   
hour later. Not that he was crowding her. Not at all. On the contrary, he   
was avoiding her. Well, not really avoiding her, but he hadn't talked to her   
so far. He had been talking to Faith and Kate, had embraced with Drusilla,   
shaken hands with Xander and the others, but there wasn't one word exchanged   
with her.  
  
Well, it wasn't really right. He hadn't talked to Riley either. But then,   
Riley had ignored Angel from the moment he stepped into the precinct, and   
was glaring at him from time to time. Not that she expected them to shake   
hands.  
  
Buffy remembered Riley's face when Giles had told them about Angel's return   
to L.A. and to their precinct. To call it anger would've been too mild. It   
had been hostility, hatred, and another myriad of negative emotions she'd   
given up trying to count. It was hard to believe that Riley and Angel had   
once been best friends, almost as close as brothers. It had changed when   
Riley had shown an interest in Buffy. She hadn't known it at first, and it   
had needed two more years for her to figure out why Riley had been   
interested in her in the first place.  
  
It had been the beginning of the end of their relationship. Jealousy was   
never a good foundation for a marriage. And Riley had been so eaten up by   
it. God, she thought, running a hand through her hair and glancing quickly   
at Angel, who was currently talking to Darla. Darla? Buffy narrowed her   
eyes, assessing the situation. They *had* been lovers once, so it could be   
possible that... And that's a very bad thought Buffy, she scolded herself.   
Don't even go there. It'll just lead into dangerous territory.  
  
"Hey there."  
  
She jerked around and found Spike sitting at the edge of her desk, smiling   
at her.  
  
"Hey back," she replied and forced a smile on her lips. This was Angel's   
friend and she would keep up appearances in front of him - even if it killed   
her. "What do you want?" she asked a little bit too sharp, instantly   
scolding herself for it. So much for good intentions.  
  
He raised a hand in a gesture of peace, "Maybe I should come back later?" he   
suggested.  
  
She rolled her eyes, "Sorry, I'm just not at my best today."  
  
"Yeah," he said, looking pointedly at Angel, "I know what you mean. He   
wasn't in a very good mood either this morning."  
  
One of her eyebrows rose in understanding, "So you... know?"  
  
"I do," he answered, "or rather, I know the facts. That you were together   
once, that you split and you married another guy who happened to be Angel's   
friend and partner. But that pretty much sums it up." He gave her a warm   
smile, "He isn't the kind of guy to run around and brag."  
  
"I see," she smiled tightly, "It was quite messy," she said, busying herself   
with some files on her desk. "You know each other long?"  
  
"Since the day he came to the big apple," he told her. "He's been my partner   
ever since." He paused for a moment, then added, "Never had a better one."  
  
"That's... good," she replied without looking at him, but he could still see   
the frown on her forehead. She was so tense he was afraid she would crack if   
someone as much as touched her. Spike's separation from Cathleen had been   
messy too, mostly because he loved her and she - after two years - had   
discovered she didn't, but he sensed that there was a lot more to Buffy and   
Angel than he knew.  
  
"And that guy is the one you married," he said casually nodding towards   
Riley.  
  
She looked up, followed his eyes and nodded, "Not that it's any of your   
business, but yeah."  
  
He knew a dismissal when he got one. Well, he'd heard enough for now anyway.   
But of course, being Spike, the guy who always had the last word, he   
couldn't just leave. So he put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it.   
Leaning forward he said quietly, "I heard you're divorcing him. Good for   
you." Then he turned and went back to his desk.  
  
Buffy stifled a gasp and looked after him. Then her eyes wandered to Angel   
who was now sitting at his desk, reading a file Giles had given him, and was   
still ignoring her. It was hard to believe that a person like Angel, who had   
always been so quiet and earnest, could work with someone like Spike, but   
obviously they had - for a long time. Much longer than the time she and   
Angel had spent as a couple. And deep inside Buffy felt herself envying   
Spike for that.  
  
*  
  
She hadn't changed much. Physically. Angel didn't look up from the page he'd   
been reading for the last ten minutes. He hadn't understood one word. He   
didn't need to look at Buffy. He'd seen her before and remembered every   
detail. She was still incredibly beautiful. Her blond hair longer than it   
had been four years ago, her figure more mature, she had blossomed into a   
grown-up woman, a real knockout.  
  
But he had also seen the sadness in her eyes. They were still those   
hazel-eyes that had haunted his dreams for so long, yet they were different,   
older, but it wasn't just caused by age. And Angel didn't like seeing it, he   
found himself wishing they hadn't changed at all. That they still shone with that innocent laughter that had drawn him to her, wishing to keep it there, to protect her from the rough reality called life.  
  
Well, she'd chosen Riley for the job and regarding her eyes he'd done a   
pretty lousy job. Why did he care anyway, he asked himself. They hadn't seen   
each other for over four years. She wasn't his damned business anymore. Why   
would sad eyes threaten to make him throw all his resolutions out of the   
window? He had sworn to himself, not to fall for her again, not to care. But   
somehow that sadness was almost more attractive than her youthful innocence.   
God, he was a fool.  
  
Angel put the file down and looked up, catching her in a lively conversation   
with Spike. They were laughing, Spike leaning forward, his killer smile   
firmly in place. Angel could feel the irritation stirring in him. He didn't   
like seeing Spike with her, like two old buddies - or even more.  
  
Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to stay calm. This was Spike. His   
friend and partner. Spike would never... And damn he was doing it again.   
Trusting a friend and partner. But Spike wasn't Riley and Angel certainly   
wasn't the gullible idiot anymore he'd been once. If nothing else, Riley's   
betrayal had taught him that even long time friends could be false and that   
a smile didn't have to mean anything. Angel had become a better detective   
for this, even if he hadn't become a happier man.  
  
He saw Spike squeeze Buffy's shoulder, then leave her desk. He quickly   
looked back down onto the file. He could feel her staring at him. What had   
Spike said to her? His last comment had left her shaken and stunned.  
  
His blond partner came over and sat down on his chair, whistling slightly.   
When Angel looked up, Spike grinned at him.  
  
"What?" the dark-haired man asked.  
  
"Oh, nothing," his friend replied, his face all innocence. "She's nice," he   
said and his grin widened when he saw Angel narrow his eyes. "Hey, I mean   
that in a strictly friendly way. I'm not interested in her that way.   
And speaking about interest," he tilted his head, his eyes wandering to a   
certain dark-haired woman who was talking to a blond. Then his gaze came   
back to rest on his partner, "Didn't you say you were once Miss Peterson's senior officer?" When he saw Angel raise his brows, he continued, "I'd really like to know more about her."  
  
*****  
  
"Tell me again what we're doing here," Spike whined as he got out of the car   
Angel had parked in front of a nightclub called "The Splash".  
  
"Investigating," the dark-haired man replied coming around the car and to   
stand beside his friend.  
  
Spike's eyebrows rose, "Investigating?" he echoed.  
  
"Yeah. The Splash is *the* bar all the officers attend after duty hours. No   
better place to meet everyone. Everyone is here. Or they were, but according   
to Darla they still are."  
  
"Ah, Darla."  
  
Angel gave his friend an irritated look, "What does that mean?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"The 'Ah, Darla' in that tone of voice," the dark-haired man clarified.  
  
"Nothing," Spike shrugged, walking towards the entrance of the club. "She's   
a hottie."  
  
"Yeah, she is, and she's also old news. We were over long before I met   
Buffy. Now we don't even qualify as friends any more. But we know each   
other and respect each other as police officers." At least that was what Angel   
hoped.  
  
"If you say so."  
  
Angel stopped abruptly, holding the other man's arm, "Would you care to   
explain?" there was a definite edge in his voice. He didn't like what his   
friend was implying.  
  
"Hey, no need to get cranky," Spike raised his hands in a gesture of   
surrender, "I know that there's nothing going on, from your side at least.   
But I also have eyes and she's far from over you."  
  
Angel looked as his friend for a long moment, then frowned, "You have to be   
imagining things," he murmured. No way, could Darla still be interested in   
him. No way! He knew his former lover only too well, and if Spike was right,   
it would only complicate things.  
  
"No, I'm not. I saw the way she was watching you this morning. Sure, she   
tries to hide it, but believe me, I see it if someone is interested."  
  
Angel's frown deepened. Spike sounded sure and he had enough experience in   
that field to judge people, women in particular. "Oh shit," he muttered and   
ran a hand through his hair. "Just what I need." There was no way he wanted   
to get involved with Darla again. He met her on his first day at the Police   
Academy. She'd been an instructor and older than him. They had fallen in   
lust quickly and strongly and it had lasted for about three months. Then   
their ways had parted for a while, with her going back to active duty. They   
had met again when Angel had left the Academy, but none of them had been   
interested to repeat their former involvement, or so Angel had thought -   
until now.  
  
Angel couldn't shake off the uneasy feeling of Spike's revelation all   
evening. Spike wasn't usually wrong about these things. If Darla was still,   
or again, interested in him, it could mean trouble. The reason for their   
split-up had been her growing possessiveness of him. First Angel had felt as   
if she was watching him, and then there had been the incident with one of   
his classmates at the Academy.  
  
They had been talking over a cup of coffee when Darla had entered the   
cafeteria and raged like a madwoman at him, implying he was betraying her.   
Angel was more than irritated by her behavior but she'd apologized and for   
two weeks everything had been fine. Then, Angel had found a bug in his phone   
and a little bit of investigation had revealed that Darla had planted it to   
check up on him. After that he had refused to see her again. She'd pleaded,   
whined, begged, and screamed but he didn't change his mind and a week later   
she'd been called back to active duty. Still, Angel wasn't able to shake off   
an uneasy feeling whenever he was around her. Although, as he'd told Spike, he   
respected her as a colleague.  
  
"Hey, good to see you."  
  
His head jerked around and a smile spread over his face when he saw who had   
been talking to him. "Faith," he said, hugging her close.  
  
"It's good to see you," she grinned and pulled back. "It's been freaking   
long since you left. I could hardly believe it when old Giles told us you'd   
be back. This town just wasn't the same without you."  
  
"Really?" he grinned as well, noticing from the corner of his eye that Spike   
was just approaching Dru, who was sitting at the bar sipping her campari   
soda. He forced his mind back on Faith. Dru was a grown up woman, and it   
wasn't his job to look out for her anymore. After all she'd been fine the   
past four years without him. "I never thought you the type to settle on one   
man."  
  
She laughed out loud, a throaty, generous sound, "Yeah, well, you know me.   
The world is full of men, why settle on one?" Her eyes sparkled with   
mischief and she nodded towards the bar, "Seems your partner has it for Dru.   
They'd make a nice couple, don't you think."  
  
"Maybe," Angel replied evasively, then again forcing his mind away from the   
couple at the bar, nodded at the table, "You don't mind if I join you?"  
  
"No," she shook her head, and gestured invitingly at a vacant seat, "On the   
contrary. Sit down."  
  
After the waitress had taken their orders, Faith leaned back and crossed her   
arms, "Now, tell me, what have you done on the other side of the country.   
Solved a lot of cases? Broke a lot of women's hearts?"  
  
"Yes and no," he replied, relaxing a little bit. He and Faith had never been   
anything but friends. He felt comfortable in her presence, and liked her   
from the start. "New York is really different from L.A."  
  
"Yeah, I know," she said, and smiled at the waitress who was serving their   
drinks. "We went to New York quite often when I was still living in Boston."  
  
"Yes, I remember," Angel sipped from his soda. He'd never been much for   
alcohol. A glass of wine here and there and a beer some times, but he had   
never cared for whisky or any harder drinks. "What about you? Lots of   
exciting men in your life?"  
  
She raised a brow at him, "You were always good at evading questions," she   
remarked, "but I let it go - for now. The men in my life," she sighed   
dramatically, "let's put it that way. Mr. Perfect never came along."  
  
"I see," he couldn't help the grin that spread across his face, "So you   
content yourself with investigation."  
  
Her answering grin was matching his, "If you want to put it that way. Yeah.   
And it's rather time-consuming, you know. Lots of interesting subjects   
around." She wiggled her brows and winked.  
  
He laughed good-naturedly, "Oh, it would never work with us, Faith. I'd   
never be able to keep up with your pace. I like my life quiet and steady. I   
like to spend evenings at home, watching a baseball game. You're too active   
for my taste."  
  
Another dramatic sigh came from her, "Oh well," she shrugged, "That means   
I'll just have to continue looking around." Her eyes fell on someone   
entering the club, and her expression sobered instantly, "Well, at least,"   
she said, sipping from her drink, "I've been over the worst of them already.   
It can only improve after that."  
  
Angel looked at her quizzically, and then turned following her eyes. It had   
been four years, and there had been times in New York when Angel had thought   
he could forget all the things that had happened before he'd left L.A., but   
now he was sure it was far from over. His body tensed the moment he   
discovered the subject of her words.  
  
Riley sauntered into the bar, a curvy blond on his arm, her eyes adoringly   
on his face. She looked young and was obviously in love with the older   
detective. "Seems he's favoring kindergarteners these days," Faith said   
dryly, taking another sip from her drink. "No wonder. A grown up woman would   
figure him out in a flash. There's a nice body, I have to give him that much,   
but it's not worth it."  
  
Angel turned back to face the dark-haired woman, the hair in his neck   
standing up straight. He would never be able to relax in Riley's presence.   
Too much had happened between the two men. To think that they had once joked   
about girls, shared the first forbidden drive in his father's car, joined   
the police force together. It seemed like a lifetime ago.  
  
"Ever seen the girl before?" he asked.  
  
"No," Faith shook her head, "he changes them so fast, it's impossible   
to keep up with it. I think even babies like her find out quickly what sort   
of guy he is. Considering everything, it took Buffy a long time to realize   
what was going on." Catching what she'd just said, she reached out to cover   
his hand with hers, an apologetic smile on her face, "Sorry. I just put my   
foot in my mouth. This should be a relaxing evening, didn't want to remind   
you."  
  
As if he needed a reminder. Buffy had never been out of his thoughts, not   
one day had passed in New York, that her image hadn't entered his mind. Her   
laughing eyes that looked so sad now, sometimes he even wondered if he could   
feel the silky strands of her hair with his fingers. "It's okay," he managed   
to say, then took a large gulp from his soda.  
  
"Uh oh, I'm getting bad vibes, here," Dru looked from Angel to Faith and   
back when she sat down at their table. "Are we interrupting something?" She   
gazed at Spike, who was sitting down beside her.  
  
"It looks as if we just came in time," he replied grinning, "my friend Angel   
here tends to get too serious sometimes. I usually have to save him then."  
  
"It's just the company in here," Faith said, nodding towards Riley and the   
blond girl, "Doesn't help to improve the evening."  
  
"Ah," Drusilla nodded understandingly. "Don't let him spoil the evening,   
he's nothing but an idiot. Never understood what you found in him," she was   
looking at Faith now who groaned.  
  
"Sure, remind me of that. Now *you're* spoiling the evening. If I could cut   
out a part of my life, it would be definitely the part where I was too blind   
to see beyond a well-trained body. But, hey, look at the bright side, at   
least I'm over it, and unlike others I never married..." she trailed off,   
instantly wanting to kick herself for the slip when she saw Angel's face   
that had just been relaxing tense again.  
  
Spike had seen it too, and he reached out, putting a hand on his friend's   
shoulder, "Don't let him get to you, man. He isn't worth it."  
  
"My words exactly," Faith agreed, giving Angel another apologetic look. She   
was really doing it tonight. Now she only had to find a dog and kick it to   
make her performance perfect, she thought. "As Dru said, he's an idiot. Not   
worth another thought."  
  
"Yeah," Angel released a breath. "I really thought I was over it."  
  
"You never get over these things," Spike said, understanding in his eyes.   
"They stay with you. All you can do is, live with them, learn and avoid the   
same faults in the future. But if it's any help. I really dislike the guy.   
There's something about him..." he trailed off, exchanging a look with his   
friend. There was a certain expression in their eyes. They were looking for   
a dirty cop, and it could be Riley Finn.  
  
The problem was Angel wasn't sure if he'd really like it. Sure, lots of   
things had happened between Riley and he, Buffy being the most important of   
them, but there were those good times as well. Maybe it had all been a lie   
where Riley was concerned, but that didn't mean, you could just forget them   
and pretend they never had happened. There were all the evenings they had   
been studying together, the first night they'd gotten drunk at college. No,   
Angel wasn't sure if he liked the idea of Riley being the man they were   
looking for.  
  
Forcing himself back to the present, he turned towards Dru, "You've grown   
up," he said, smiling, "Heard a lot of good things about you, officer."  
  
"Oh," she raised a brow, "well, I had a good teacher," she said, smiling as   
well.  
  
"Glad to hear that," Angel commanded his body to relax and to ignore the man   
still standing only a few feet behind him at the bar, "heard you received a   
commendation for rescuing a kid."  
  
She blushed slightly at that, "Yes, I did. But it really wasn't anything   
big. I just did my job."  
  
"She did a lot more than that," Faith disagreed, "You should have seen her,   
Angel, she wouldn't give up when everyone else thought the boy was dead. And   
she found him. It was great."  
  
"Don't exaggerate," Drusilla said a bit uncomfortable with all the   
attention, "I'm just glad we found him and that he's now back with his   
parents. He was lost at the fair," she explained the two men who didn't know   
all the details. "The fair was near a river and they all thought he'd fallen   
into it and drowned, but I couldn't shake off the feeling that he was still   
alive. Finally we found him hanging on the roller coaster. He'd climbed up   
and couldn't get down again."  
  
"So Dru just climbed after him and brought him back down," Faith added,   
giving her partner a sideways glance. "She really earned her commendation   
for the bold climbing. I think I'd have fainted up there."  
  
"So you're not just beautiful and bright but brave too," Spike looked at Dru   
with admiration in his eyes, "What a combination."  
  
She blushed again, this time delicately, "Stop that," she whispered. "I'm   
not worth all this. I'm just a woman who did her job. And I'm not   
beautiful."  
  
"Leave that up to me," Spike replied with a wink, enjoying the fact that her   
blush deepened. God, but she was lovely. He felt the same stirring in his   
groin he'd already felt this morning, but now it was accompanied by   
something he had experienced once, and he wasn't sure he liked to feel it   
again.  
  
Angel's voice was casual when he suddenly asked, "Buffy never comes here?"  
  
"No, not anymore," Faith told him, "With their divorce going on and Riley   
hanging around all the time," she shrugged, "She doesn't really care to see   
him after work. Besides, I think she went to Willow and Oz's tonight   
with Xander, his wife and probably Cordelia."  
  
"Oh?" Angel raised a brow.  
  
"Yeah. They're celebrating. Willow's just discovered that she's going to   
have a baby."  
  
*****  
  
"I'm so glad you all could come tonight," Willow exclaimed, her gaze   
wandering over the little crowd assembled in her and Oz's living room.  
  
"We're glad to be here," Cordelia assured her with a smile. "It's what   
friends are for. To share the good and the bad times. And this is definitely   
a very good one. Do you know already what it's going to be?"  
  
"No," Oz shook his head, "It's too early to say it. But we aren't sure if we   
even want to know."  
  
"Why not?" Anya looked at the expecting parents with puzzlement, "But if you   
don't know what you're getting how will you get the people buy the right   
things? I mean you don't want your little boy grow up in pink, do you?" She   
thought about her own baby that was being taken care of tonight by her   
mother-in-law and shuddered. No way she wanted to imagine him in pink.  
  
Willow raised a brow at Xander's wife, "I really think that's old-fashioned.   
Like giving only dolls to girls or never one to a boy. Whatever the child   
is, it will have blue *and* pink clothes and it will get to play with   
whatever she or he prefers."  
  
"Hear, hear," Doyle grinned at the redhead and raised his glass, "But   
congratulations, whatever it is. Maybe it'll get a playing pal soon," he   
added and wiggled his brows at his fiancée.  
  
"Oh, no, buddy," Cordelia shook her head, "I just got the new job. No way   
I'm giving it up for a baby. I agreed to marry you, but a child will   
definitely have to wait for a while."  
  
Doyle looked at her, and then shrugged.  
  
"Trouble in paradise already?" Xander inquired, raising a brow.  
  
"Xander," Anya elbowed him in his ribs, making him yelp.  
  
Willow watched her friends and smiled to herself when her eyes fell on Buffy   
who had been very quiet the whole evening. She was sitting in the back,   
sipping at her coke, not really following the conversation going on. The   
redhead exchanged a short glance with her husband who nodded at her and then   
left the table to join her best friend for a moment.  
  
"Heavy thoughts?" she asked approaching the blond.  
  
Buffy's head snapped up, her startled eyes on the other woman, and then she   
forced a smile on her lips, "No. Sorry, I haven't been real fun to have   
around tonight. I shouldn't have come."  
  
"Nonsense," Willow said firmly and sat down beside her. "We love to have you   
around. What's the matter? Talk to me," she urged gently.  
  
"It's really not important."  
  
"But it is if it makes you sit quietly in the dark, zoning out everything   
and everyone."  
  
The blond ran a hand through her hair, and put her glass down, "Am I that   
readable?" she asked, shaking her head, a sad laugh escaping her mouth.   
"It's just hard," she admitted finally, "you're all so happy. Such wonderful   
couples. Anya and Xander are on cloud number nine with their little boy,   
Cordy and Doyle seem to be perfect for each other, as hard to believe as it   
is," she had to laugh at that for a moment, "and now you and Oz... It just   
shows me what a failure my life has been."  
  
"Oh Buffy," Willow reached out, putting a hand over her friend's, "that   
sounds as if it's over already. You're just 30. Your life has barely begun."  
  
"Oh yeah?" the blonde's voice was full of sarcasm, "That's not how I'm   
seeing it. I screwed up royally, Willow. I pushed Angel away, and then I   
fell on Riley. What would you call it? Good judgment?"  
  
"No," the redhead said calmly, but firmly, "No, I wouldn't. But that doesn't   
mean your life is over. You need to put it behind you and move on. It could   
be worse you know. You could have been one of the women who wake up at 50   
only to realize the things you know at 30."  
  
Slowly a smile spread over the blonde's features, "You really know how to   
make me feel better, Willow. I'm sorry," she said, "sometimes self-pity   
overwhelms me."  
  
"And rightfully so," the redhead assured her. "You had some very rough   
times. But now you're straightening things out. You'll be divorced soon.   
You're still young and have a lot to look forward too." She quickly looked   
down then back at Buffy, "And maybe there's even a chance to get things back   
together with Angel?"  
  
"Angel?" Buffy considered it for a moment, and then remorsefully shook her   
head, "No, I don't think so Willow. Besides. It's been over four years. I   
hurt him. A lot. Why on earth would he still have feelings for me? No," she   
shook her head again, "whatever has been between us once. It's over. And we both   
know it. It ended four years ago, and it's the best for everyone if it stays that way. None of us wants to repeat past mistakes." She took her glas and sipped, missing the doubtful expression on Willow's face  
  
*****  
  
Tuesday, August 22nd, Los Angeles  
  
Summer in L.A. could be nice. If you were rich, didn't have to work and   
could spend your days at the beach. If you weren't born with a golden spoon   
in your mouth it could be a bitch. The air was hot, the smog thick and you   
had to kick yourself to get up and things done.  
  
Buffy Summers-Finn - for another four weeks - was no exception. The idea of   
getting up each morning, only to spend another day in a badly aired precinct   
or a police car that had seen better days, wasn't all that tempting. But as   
she wasn't one of the filthy rich people living at Beverly Hills she had no   
real choice.  
  
At least she liked her job. Most of the time. She liked being a police   
officer, liked getting the bad guys. What she didn't like was typing   
reports, interviewing witnesses or interrogating suspects, although the   
latter could have its appraise. Especially if your mood wasn't the best.  
  
She hadn't been in a good mood for a long time, she mused while she tried to   
get the old percolator into gear. Riley had taken the new one the day he   
moved out of the apartment. No, her mood hadn't been good for a long time.   
Not for a very long time. More than four years, if she was brutally honest   
with herself. Yes, there had been times, right after she'd just married   
Riley where she thought herself happy and content, but looking back now she   
knew it had been nothing but fake.  
  
Don't go there, she scolded herself and closed her eyes, taking a deep   
breath. Four weeks, she had to get through four more weeks, not even quite,   
and then this nightmare would be over. Riley wouldn't be her husband anymore   
and she would be Buffy Summers again. She could go on with her life and   
pretend it never happened.  
  
Of course she didn't believe it for a second.  
  
Nothing would be the same again. The scars the last four years had left on   
her were invisible but nonetheless deep and at the moment she wondered if   
they would ever heal. Willow had said she was 30 and still young, but she   
felt old, worn out and tired, oh so tired.  
  
She felt tears welling up in her eyes and swallowed hard, her hands gripping   
the counter until her knuckles went white. God, she'd been such a fool. If   
she could just turn back time and change... But no, you couldn't do that, time   
moved on and so would she - maybe - eventually. She would leave all that   
behind her, and concentrate on her work for a while and maybe, given   
enough time, she would get her life back together.  
  
With a sweep of her hand she wiped a tear away that had slipped from her   
lashes and determined, pushed herself off of the counter and poured some   
cereal into a bowl. She would get through this, she wouldn't break just   
because Angel had returned to L.A., looking as wonderful as she remembered   
him, and making her long for things she could no longer have.  
  
The milk almost slipped from her hand when the doorbell rang suddenly. A   
frown appeared on her forehead as she gazed at the clock. Who in the hell   
was coming to see her at seven o'clock in the morning? Not that she was in a   
hurry. She usually left for work at half past seven, but she liked to have   
this time to herself, because the day was still young.  
  
A second ring told her that whoever was standing in front of her door would   
obviously not go away. With a sigh she put the milk down and went to open   
the door and almost fainted at the sight of Angel Reardon.  
  
"Angel," her voice was strangely breathless.  
  
No smile appeared on his face when his eyes wandered over her form, not   
missing a detail of her night robe, the bunny slippers she usually wore at   
home or the tousled hair. Neither did he miss the fact that she didn't wear   
anything underneath her robe. "Hi, Buffy," he said, his eyes locking on   
hers.  
  
She felt a blush creeping up her neck and instantly cursed herself. She was   
thirty years old and was blushing at the sight of an attractive male. She   
was pathetic. But she wasn't the kind of woman who usually entertained   
lovers in her apartment and was used to meet men half-naked first thing in   
the morning. She almost laughed out loud at the thought. Lovers. Her sexual   
experience was almost non-existent.  
  
Before Angel there had been her high school sweetheart who had persuaded her   
that sex after the prom was expected. And Buffy, being the idiot she'd   
obviously been all her life, hadn't had the heart to say no. In college   
there had been another - even more idiotic - sexual encounter, before she'd   
finally met Angel. He'd been the first lover to stay with her longer than one   
night. Then there had been Riley and then... nothing.  
  
So she couldn't help the embarrassment she felt at finding Angel at her   
doorstep. "Well, hi," she managed, cursing herself again. **Great going   
Summers. Now he thinks you're a complete idiot.**  
  
He cleared his throat, and then gestured at her outfit, "I'm sorry to   
disturb you this early, but... well, I thought we could... talk?"  
  
"Talk?" she asked, raising a brow.  
  
He had to grin at her confusion and Buffy almost fainted at the change in   
him when he did so. He was incredibly handsome but a smile on his face did   
things to it that made her heart beat faster and a familiar, but long   
forgotten, warmth began to settle between her legs. "Yeah, you know," he   
said, jamming his hands into his pockets, "Talk. Moving lips with sound   
coming out of your mouth. Talk."  
  
"Yeah, I know about talking," she replied, angry with herself. **Get a grip   
on yourself, Summers. You're a grown up woman. Grown up women don't drool   
over men on their doorsteps. Not even if the man in question is Angel   
Reardon. *Especially* not if the man is Angel.**  
  
"Good," he slightly inclined his head and when she did nothing, he asked,   
"So, can I maybe come in? It's much easier to talk in private."  
  
"Oh. Sure, come in," she stepped aside to allow him to enter, then closed   
the door behind him. **Casual, Summers. Act casual.** Turning towards the   
kitchen she asked, "You want some coffee? I just started it, and if the   
machine did its work it should be ready by now. Otherwise I can only offer   
cereal. I forgot to buy bread yesterday."  
  
"Just coffee, thanks," he replied and looked around. He had never seen her   
apartment before, but guessing at the size of it, she and Riley must have   
lived here. It was too big for one person, and maybe also too expensive?   
Angel pushed the thought aside. He hadn't come to investigate her, but - as   
he'd told her - to talk. Somehow they had to settle the tension that had   
been in the air the previous day or the coming weeks would be hell.  
  
"Take a seat in the living room," she said from the kitchen while he heard   
her filling two cups, then loading a tray. "I hope you still drink your   
coffee black?" there was a slight question in her voice and so he took the   
cup with a nod.  
  
"Old habits die hard," he told her, sipping from the dark, strong brew. Her   
coffee still tasted as he remembered. He'd always loved her coffee. But then   
he'd loved so many things about her, and was so madly in love, so blind   
and... "Nice apartment," he remarked.  
  
She shrugged, "It's alright, but I'm looking for a smaller one. Too many bad   
memories," she said without a hint of self-pity, "and it's getting too   
expensive. Cops don't earn this kind of money."  
  
So much for that, Angel thought, surprised by the relief he felt at her   
remark. He and Buffy were over, and he'd just come to make piece, so why was   
it so important to him that she wasn't involved in the case he was   
researching? Not that she was on Cordelia's list anyway. But Cordelia was   
Buffy's friend and certainly not objective where the blond was concerned.  
  
"Don't I know it," Angel smiled and took another sip of his coffee. "My   
parents almost fainted when I told them that I was leaning towards law   
enforcement. But I was determined to become the best cop, there was nothing   
they could say to change my mind."  
  
"Yeah," Buffy nodded, understanding exactly what he meant. God, this was so   
unreal. Here she was sitting, half-naked, in her living room talking to a   
man she never thought she'd see again. And now they were making small talk.   
"So why did you want to talk to me?"  
  
He sighed and put his cup down. "What do you think? We didn't part on the   
best of terms four years ago and yesterday," he shrugged, "let's just say it   
was tense. So I thought, I'd come by to tell you that I'm not angry anymore.   
Or anything. Whatever happened between us four years ago is over. There's no   
sense in blaming anyone for it. It's old news. Over and done with. So maybe   
we can forget about it and just be... colleagues?"  
  
If he'd stabbed her, he couldn't have hurt her more, Buffy thought. Old   
news. So that was how he felt about their affair, relationship, or whatever   
it had been. Old news. Over and done. But whom was she kidding? Of course it was   
over. Hadn't she told herself the very same just before. With some effort she   
managed to keep her expression blank, "Of course," she said and God, didn't   
her voice sound light and without emotion? Maybe she'd missed her calling.   
Maybe she should've become an actress instead. And maybe she could just lie   
down and die.  
  
"Good," he smiled at her, "I'm glad you think so," he said, "It would've   
been awkward, to say the least, if we wouldn't manage to act like adults   
around each other. I'm glad you feel the same way."  
  
**Yeah, sure. And maybe I could just try to not exist at all,** Buffy   
thought, surprised that she was still able to breathe. What the hell was   
happening to her, she wondered. She had managed to avoid thinking about him   
for four years and now his words were cutting her soul wide open, and   
hurting her the way no one else could hurt her. "Yeah, I do," she managed,   
"Feel the same way, I mean."  
  
Something flickered through his eyes, but it was gone so quickly that she   
had no time to discover what it was. With a nod Angel got up, "Alright. That   
was pretty much all I wanted to talk about," he said, "Thanks for the   
coffee." When she was about to get up as well, he shook his head, "No, just   
enjoy your breakfast. I'll find the way out. Thanks for your time."  
  
And then with a last nod he was gone, leaving Buffy to her coffee and cereal   
that suddenly tasted like sand.  
  
****  
  
Angel closed the door of his car then let his forehead fall on the steering   
wheel and exhaled a long breath. His whole body trembled with the effort the   
past few minutes had been. With the effort of being so close and trying keep   
his cool.  
  
It had taken his breath away to see her standing in the doorway like that.   
Her skin still warm from a good night's sleep, her hair tousled as if a   
lover's hand had roamed through it. Only that there hadn't been a lover,   
she'd been alone and her eyes had again looked so sad, it was all he could   
do not to reach out, take her into his arms and hold her until all sadness   
was gone and replaced by the sparkle of happiness he'd seen in them all those   
years ago.  
  
His body had hardened instantly at the sight of her, because sadness or no,   
she was still the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. He wanted to sweep   
her up in his arms and carry her to bed and make love to her for days and   
days. But of course that was nothing but a foolish daydream that would never   
come true again. Time couldn't be turned back, past mistakes were done and   
he had to live with them forever.  
  
But, God, he wanted her. Still wanted her the same way he'd wanted her from   
the first moment he'd seen her. He would never forget the afternoon when   
she'd entered his office. He'd known he was lost then and obviously some   
things never changed. His mind might have made an effort to forget what no   
longer could be, his body certainly hadn't done the same.  
  
The way she'd turned towards the kitchen, her hips slightly swinging under   
the morning robe, Angel had instantly wished he hadn't come at all. But it   
had been too late then and he had to go through with it. And boy, had he   
played his part well. He hadn't missed the hurt in her eyes. Or maybe it was   
just his imagination. Why would his words hurt her? She preferred to marry   
Riley, to not give him a second chance when he'd gone to her in the church   
and pleaded her to listen to him.  
  
No, it had to be his imagination. She'd chosen Riley after all. She had   
ended all their dreams with her final decision to marry his former best   
friend. She had given up on them long before he had. Not to forget that he'd done   
his part in all this as well. She'd lost far more than he four years ago. A   
young, smiling face briefly flickered through his mind, but Angel quickly pushed   
it away.  
  
Taking a deep breath, he started the car and his face hardened in   
determination. He might still want her, but he was an adult and he would be   
damned if he let his hormones rule his life. Wanting was one thing. It could   
be strong, but he had learned to control his sexual appetite. Love. Well,   
love was another matter. Love could be so strong, it could make a man do   
crazy stuff, and it could make a man lose control.  
  
Pulling the car onto the road, Angel vowed that he would never let love rule   
him again.  
  
*****  
  
Buffy was still walking around in a daze when she entered the precinct about   
an hour later. She'd driven on autopilot and even her greetings to her   
colleagues and friends were automatic. Angel's words had hurt her more than   
she'd believed possible. Over and done. Old news. Her mind repeated it again   
and again, and by noon a severe headache was hammering behind her temples.  
  
She was glad Willow had been busy the whole morning. The last thing Buffy   
wanted at the moment was to talk about Angel's early visit. All she wanted   
was to forget it ever happened. Of course, she never got what she wanted.   
With Angel only two desks away she had the constant reminder around all the   
time.  
  
When a heavy file finally hit her desk she stifled a groan, only to stiffen   
when she looked up at the person who'd put it there. Her eyes narrowed   
instantly, "What's this?" she asked.  
  
"A file," Riley replied acidly, "or does it look like something else?"  
  
"I can see it is a file," Buffy gritted out, "What I want to know is why   
would you give it to me?"  
  
"Maybe you should read it," he proposed and turned away, not bothering to   
explain.  
  
"Jerk," she muttered under her breath, then reached for the file and opened   
it. Her breath caught in her throat when she read the first words. 'Case   
Mike Danicki' it said. Buffy felt her hands start to tremble and she had to   
force herself to breathe properly. Nervously she licked her suddenly dry   
lips and her eyes darted towards Riley who was smirking at her.  
  
Attached to the file was a picture that showed a young, smiling man who was   
gazing up at her with the same hazel eyes Buffy used to see when she looked into   
the mirror each morning. Her heart clenched in pain, her stomach began to squirm   
and the pounding behind her temples intensified. Massaging them for a moment, she   
didn't see that Angel was watching her with concern.  
  
With as much grace as her trembling legs would allow she stood and walked   
over to his desk, "Would you care to explain?" she demanded, her voice loud   
enough for the officers near by to hear. Faith stopped her typing and eyed   
Buffy curiously. Kate Lockley did the same and Angel didn't even bother to   
hide his interest in the scene. But Buffy didn't care. At the moment, she only   
hoped she would survive this moment.  
  
Riley shrugged, "I had this old file in my desk. Thought I should give it to   
you first before turning it over to the archive," he said still smirking.  
  
Her eyes narrowed another bit, "Maybe you didn't know it until now, but you   
are the lowest form of life on this planet, Riley Finn," she told him glad   
that her voice sounded cool and controlled although her knees were shaking   
badly.  
  
He shrugged again, "I just thought it would be of interest for you. Never   
thought it'd get to you like this." But the expression in his eyes told   
another story. They were calculating, and he was obviously hoping to hurt   
her any way possible. God, how could she have ever thought herself in love   
with him?  
  
And it had hurt her. He knew exactly how she felt about the Danicki Case,   
he'd been there after all, and later she'd emptied out her soul to him and he'd   
held her, told her he understood. Bastard. But, by God, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction to see her pain. Straightening her spine, she walked back to   
her desk, picked up the file, then returned to Riley's desk and placed it in   
front of him. "Thanks," she said, her voice carefully controlled, "How   
thoughtful of you. But this case is closed." With a last look she turned and   
went for the bathroom.  
  
She was shaking so badly when she finally closed the door behind her that   
she sank to the ground, not able to stand anymore. She hated Riley so much,   
if she'd a gun she would be able to shoot him right now. And not care. To   
think she'd sent Angel away...  
  
A sob rose in her throat, choking her, and in panic anyone might hear her,   
she pressed a hand to her mouth. No, she would not lose it in here. She had   
to keep control, keep her cool.  
  
"Oh God." Her moan sounded like that of a wounded animal. "Oh God, oh God,"   
she moaned again, hating her own weakness, her vulnerability. She closed her   
eyes, pressed her hand harder on her mouth, her whole body trembling, she   
was on the edge of falling apart.  
  
And then suddenly there were arms around her, she was lifted off the ground   
and settled in someone's lap, a familiar hand was stroking her hair and   
pressing her head into a warm, hard chest. "Shhh," a once beloved voice   
soothed, while the hand continued stroking her hair. "It's okay, baby," the   
voice went on. "It's okay, I know. I'm sorry. That son of a ..."  
  
One arm tightened around her and that drove her over the edge. The trembling   
increased and then sobs came from her mouth, only muffled by Angel's shirt   
and his chest. And he just kept holding her and continued stroking her, and   
speaking to her. "It's alright, baby, don't hold back. Just cry. I'm here,"   
his voice whispered, "I'm here and I'm not going away. Just cry."  
  
"Oh God," the words tore from here throat. "Oh God, Angel," she moaned,   
throwing her arms around his neck. She didn't care what had happened to make   
him materialize beside her this very moment, she just held onto him, to the   
man she'd once loved more than she thought possible, the man she'd sent away   
on the her wedding day. And maybe the only person who could truly understand   
what she was going through. "How could he?," she asked. "How could he do it?"  
  
She didn't have to elaborate. Angel knew what she meant. "I don't know," he   
answered honestly. "I don't know him anymore. I thought I did once, but I   
was wrong. Maybe if..." he sighed. There was no point in maybes. "I would   
really like to beat him into a bloody pulp," he added savagely.  
  
"Oh yeah?" she couldn't help the smile that was tugging at the corners of   
her mouth. "Don't make me laugh, Angel. You never were the violent type.   
Riley was, but he hid it perfectly," the smile was suddenly very sad again.   
"It seems like we all thought he was someone else."  
  
"Yeah," he replied, looking at her with concern. "Are you feeling any better   
now?"  
  
Sniffling, she wiped her wet tears, and nodded, "Yeah, better." Suddenly   
embarrassed she became very aware of the fact that he was sitting on the   
tiles in the women's bathroom and she was sitting in his lap. "I'm sorry,"   
she apologized, feeling her cheeks grow hot. "I didn't intend to cry all   
over you," she tried to joke and gestured at the wet spots on his shirt.  
  
"Oh well, I take it as a payback for my visit this morning," he gave her a   
half-smile that had her heart constricting painfully. God, how she used to   
love to kiss his mouth when he smiled. And it would soon spin out of control   
and they would end... She closed her eyes for a moment and pushed the images   
of better times away.  
  
"Okay, then," she managed one of her own smiles and scrambled away from him,   
then stood. He stood as well. "Thanks for coming to my rescue."  
  
"No need to thank me." His eyes were sad and honest. "After all it was my   
fault you ever got into the position that Riley could hurt you today." He smiled   
sadly and was already turning away when she caught his arm.  
  
"Angel..."  
  
"No," he shook his head, "don't. After all it was the bullet from my gun that   
killed your brother."  
  
... to be continued 


	3. Chapter 3

.  
  
Unforgettable - Part 3  
By Jill  
  
//...// indicates dreams  
  
Tuesday, August 22nd, 10.00 p.m.  
  
"Did I ever tell you that I hate observations?" Spike asked while his hand   
was reaching into his pocket for cigarettes. They were standing in front of   
Derryl Chambers' house in Beverly Hills. He was a very rich film producer   
and he was also the father of the girl Mike Harmon intended to marry. Enough   
reason to keep an eye on the young police officer, whose engagement party   
was taking place tonight.  
  
"And did I ever tell you that I despise smoking people in my car?" Angel   
replied casually, noticing the movement of Spike's hand from the corner of   
his eye. "I tend to become quite violent about it."  
  
The blonde's hand stilled in his pocket and with a little sigh, he reached   
for a bag of potato chips he'd placed on the ground for emergency purposes.   
Spike really liked Angel. He liked working with the dark-haired man and he   
was glad to call him his friend, but his friend's attitude towards smoking   
left something to be desired. Yet, he had learned to live with it. "Even   
more I hate observing a colleague. This whole Internal Affairs business   
stinks," he said and ripped the bag open. "I have you to know that if I'm   
dying of a heart attack due to high cholesterol intake, it's your fault."  
  
"At least I don't have to watch you cough to death with lung cancer," Angel   
replied mercilessly. "I wonder how a police officer like Mike Harmon ever   
got to meet someone like Simone Chambers. They hardly hang in the same   
circles."  
  
"Maybe he gave her a ticket for speeding," Spike mused, munching his chips,   
"I'd say it's a good guess. Her nice little red sports car has a lot of   
power."  
  
"Mike Harmon was already working for homicide when they met, hardly the   
department to give speed tickets to rich girls." With a disgusted look he   
watched his friend stuffing more chips into his mouth, "How on earth can you   
eat that stuff?"  
  
"Better than starving to death," Spike shrugged, enjoying the spicy, fatty   
food. Once the bag was empty, he threw it on the ground and reached for the   
can of coke. "Talking about death. Who is, or rather was, Mike Danicki?"  
  
He felt Angel instantly stiffen beside him, "Who?" the dark-haired man   
asked, his voice carefully controlled.  
  
"Don't play games with me," Spike said, "The guy in the file on Buffy   
Summers' desk. The reason she ran into the bathroom this afternoon where you   
followed her only seconds later."  
  
Angel didn't answer at first, if it hadn't been for his harsh breathing   
Spike would have thought he hadn't even listened. Then slowly, the   
dark-haired man put his hands on the wheel and gripped it tight. "Mike   
Danicki," he began in that same controlled manner, "was a young police   
officer who was killed four years ago in a crossfire. He was also Buffy's   
half-brother."  
  
"Her half-brother?" Spike's eyebrow rose, but he didn't turn his head.   
"Younger or older?"  
  
"Younger by six years. He was only twenty when all this happened. Buffy   
didn't even know he existed until he was 14. He was the result of an   
extra-matrimonial affair of her father. She had a hard time accepting him.   
But finally she did. With all her heart and when he chose to become a police   
officer, she was so proud," his voice cracked.  
  
"And he died in a crossfire?"  
  
"Yeah," the answer came out with a harsh breath, "He was shot. Straight   
through in heart. With my weapon."  
  
"Son of a..." Spike bit out, his head jerking around. "You shot him?"  
  
"No," Angel's voice was sharp, "I didn't kill him. Although she never   
believed me. He was killed with my weapon, but I hadn't used it the whole   
night. There was a... 211... two men had taken hostages in a bank. The   
moment the men came out they started shooting. Mike was hit by accident. But   
I didn't do it. I only used a riffle that night."  
  
Angel's hands hurt from almost crushing the steering wheel and he forced   
himself to loosen his fierce grip. It had all happened what seemed like an   
eternity ago and still it hurt. He swallowed hard remembering Buffy's eyes   
when the ballistic report came in and said it had been Angel's weapon. The   
way her shoulders had stiffened, the moment she turned away and never looked   
back. It was imprinted in his mind as if it had happened yesterday.  
  
"And she thought you had," Spike shook his head and ran a hand through his   
hair, "Oh, man."  
  
The laugh that came in reply wasn't a happy one. "Yeah. Oh, man. The only   
ones who backed me up were Faith and Drusilla. They said, they'd seen the   
weapon lying on the ground beside me, Drusilla even swore that I had not   
even once put the riffle down and so I was cleared. Buffy was devastated.   
She refused to talk to me, refused to see me. That's the end of the story."   
He laughed again, "That day when the call came in about the bank robbery,   
Buffy and I were on our way to a date. We only went because we were so   
close. And I had a diamond ring in my pocket."  
  
"Oh man," Spike said again, then nothing for a long time.  
  
People still arrived at the huge three-story house. From time to time Mike   
or his future father-in-law appeared in the doorway to greet some of them.   
Once or twice they caught a glimpse of Simone, a fragile looking redhead in   
expensive clothes and high heels.  
  
"And I suppose Riley seized the day and began holding out his hand," the   
blond finally broke the silence.  
  
"Ten points," Angel replied sarcastically. "I had no idea he had the hots   
for her. He never once..." he shook his head. "He had been supportive all   
throughout our relationship, I never guessed... Then he couldn't get into   
her pants fast enough. Only four weeks after Mike was killed they announced   
their engagement and two weeks later they were married."  
  
"And then some people say, police officers don't work fast," Spike remarked,   
his voice holding the same sarcasm. "What a friend."  
  
"Oh yeah. My good friend Riley. I tried to talk to her," he said suddenly,   
looking at the blond, "I went to the church, tried to talk to her. But she   
sent me away. Told me that now she knew real love thanks to Riley. I   
left L.A. and never looked back. Until now."  
  
Spike was about to reply when it suddenly hit him, "Wait a minute. You said   
you were cleared. But you didn't tell me who shot her brother."  
  
"No I didn't, simply because I don't know. The case was never solved. We   
never found out who accidentally killed Mike Danicki."  
  
Spike was about to reply when suddenly a large car with coloured windows came to   
a halt in front of the house. The door opened, revealing a voluptous blond and a   
rather meaty looking man. Angel whistled through his teeth, the moment he saw   
them, "I'll be damned," he whispered, barely able to believe his eyes.  
  
*****  
  
// It hurt to look at him. He was so young and carefree and he was smiling   
at her, the Californian sun highlighting his blond hair.  
  
So young.  
  
Mike was waving now. And grinning, "Hey, Buffy. Don't look so serious. Life   
is fun. California is full of sun, sand and pretty girls."  
  
She laughed at that, "It must be a guy thing," she joked. "Do guys think of   
anything but pretty girls?"  
  
"I only think of one extremely pretty girl," a voice whispered in her ear   
and a pair of arms circled her waist, while a chin was laid on her shoulder.  
  
"You guys are so boring," Mike rolled his eyes, "I'm never going to fall in   
love. Just to think that I'd have to spent all my time with one girl. What a   
waste."  
  
"Big Ego, huh?" Angel tightened his hold on Buffy's waist, he smiled and his   
eyes were looking at the sea that glittered in the sun. "Just you wait.   
Love's going to find you soon enough."  
  
"Me?" Mike laughed aloud and shook his head, "Never. I'm just going to enjoy   
life and lust."  
  
Now it was Buffy's turn to roll her eyes, "I can't believe you're my   
brother. The way you think about women is disgusting."  
  
"Uh-huh," her brother's grin widened, "Sure it is. But they love me anyway.   
When are you guys going to tie the knot?" he asked out of the blue.  
  
"Oh, that's the way it goes," Angel raised a brow, "You are allowed to enjoy   
women the way you like, but I'm not."  
  
Mike's eyes narrowed a bit, "Hey, we're talking about my sister here."  
  
Buffy giggled, snuggling back into Angel's chest, "My hero. But you don't   
have to worry. You'll be the first to know if we decide anything. Until   
then, I'm your big sister, Mike. No need to protect me." She stifled a moan   
when Angel bent his head and kissed a particular sensitive spot behind her   
ear.  
  
"Please," Mike groaned, "not in public and not around me. It's hard enough   
to imagine what you're doing with my sister as soon as the doors are closed.   
I don't need a demonstration."  
  
"The boy's just jealous," Angel, whispered in Buffy's ear, "should we get   
rid of him?"  
  
"Get rid of him?" her body tensed and she turned her head to look at her   
lover. His face changed all of a sudden. It wasn't the face she loved   
anymore. It was different. Hateful. Evil. And now it laughed.  
  
"Yeah, get rid of him," Angel said, pushing her away, drawing a gun without   
warning.  
  
"No," Buffy screamed, knowing what was going to happen. "No, please."  
  
"Go way," he warned, pointing his gun at Mike, who had stepped back, his   
both hands raised in defense.  
  
"Hey, man, it was just a joke," his voice sounded frightened.  
  
"A joke? I'll give you a joke," Angel said and pulled the trigger.//  
  
"NOOOOOOO," the shout tore from her throat and sounded through the dark,   
quiet apartment. Buffy bolted upright in her bed, her whole body bathed in   
sweat, she was panting heavily. Oh God!  
  
Ohgodohgodohgod.  
  
The dream. She hadn't had that dream for years. She closed her eyes against   
the images that were still burning in her mind. Damn Riley. Damn him. Why   
had he done this to her? Of course that was a dumb question. She knew   
exactly why he did it. He wanted to show her that he could still get to her.   
And maybe he wanted to show something to Angel, too.  
  
Angel.  
  
She rolled out of her bed and walked to the kitchen. Opening the fridge she   
pulled out a bottle of milk and drank thirstily, then put it away.   
Leaning against the closed door she thought about the way Angel came to her aid   
this afternoon, the way he held her, soothed her. All she wanted was to curl   
up in his lap and stay there. It was so safe and secure in his arms, she'd   
felt so loved and treasured. Something she'd missed for a long time.  
  
She wanted to tell him. Tell him, that she didn't blame him anymore for her   
brother's death. Tell him that she was wrong. Oh so wrong. Wrong and stupid   
and stubborn and...  
  
With a heavy sigh she pushed herself away from the fridge and walked back to   
her bedroom. The bed was large, for a while she'd shared it with Riley, now   
it was empty. And cold. And lonely. But then, it had been lonely for even   
longer. Even with Riley's large body beside her she was lonely, silently   
longing for another, she could no longer have.  
  
What was he doing this very moment, she wondered? Was he lonely as well? Was   
he lying awake thinking about her? Or would his arms hold another? Would his   
mouth kiss another? Would his lips whisper of love and a future, the way   
they'd done to her so long ago?  
  
The sudden pang of jealousy she felt at the image made her gasp. The feeling   
was so violent, she felt herself shudder. She had no right to be jealous.   
She had given up that right four years ago when she'd sent him away, when   
she'd ignored the pain in his eyes and thrown him out of her life. She had   
been the one who married his best friend and made the break up final.  
  
No she had no right to feel that way. Even more so she had no right to hope he   
would ever forgive her. Still, she found herself hoping he would.  
  
*****  
  
Wednesday, August 23rd, 11.00 a.m., Los Angeles  
  
Cordelia tapped her perfectly manicured fingernails on the table and let out   
an exasperated sigh. Studying her hands for a moment, she frowned and looked   
back at the man who was sitting opposite to her in the Internal Affairs   
inquiry. The room was not very big, sparse furnitured with three chairs and a   
table and one wall was covered with mirrors. They weren't the regular kind   
you could buy in a store, but a one-way mirror, those that were mirrors on   
the one side, windows at the other.  
  
Behind them, protected against discovery were standing Rupert Giles, Brent Harley   
and Timothy Philips, the District Attorney. And they were all observing the   
proceeding on the other side of the window.  
  
"You know, this is getting old," Cordelia leaned back in her chair and   
crossed her arms in front of her chest, her eyes on the face of Riley   
Finn, who was scowling at her.  
  
"Oh, so this is boring for you?" he said, rubbing his eyes. "Well, it's not   
boring for me. In fact, it's rather annoying. Being summoned before the   
Internal Affairs at the break of dawn and being interrogated for more than   
an hour by my wife's best friend."  
  
"Soon to be ex-wife," she countered without blinking. "And that's not the point   
here. I'm here because I need answers. Answers you might have."  
  
"And I already told you that I never had a connection with David Griffin. Of   
course I've heard his name. Who hasn't? He's the new big gun around. But   
fortunately I haven't had the pleasure to meet him."  
  
He was cool, Cordelia decided. Cool and controlled. Too cool and controlled?   
Yesterday evening her boss and Brent Harley had decided to start   
interrogating all the officers of the 9th department. Timothy said it might   
be more effective to start the inquiry from two sides. And it would also   
help to avoid officers to become suspicious of Angel and Spike.   
With pleasure Cordelia agreed to start with Riley Finn. Interrogating the   
bastard was like receiving a Christmas present.  
  
She cleared her throat, and then casually flipped through a file she'd   
opened on the table. "As I can see here, you have an interesting variation   
of female companions," she looked up, nodded, "Very impressing. Tell me   
Riley-"  
  
"Detective Finn for you," he hissed.  
  
She smiled; glad she was getting at him, "If you wish. So tell me,   
*Detective*, how do you pay for them? Some of them look rather...   
expensive."  
  
"Fuck you, bitch," he spat, glaring at her, "Is that your way of getting it   
done?"  
  
"Watch your tongue, officer," Brand Harmon warned from his seat beside   
Cordelia. Brand Harmon was working for Internal Affairs and had been advised   
to take part in this interrogation as well. He was used to officers acting   
offended, but he was old-fashioned and didn't like men to use foul language   
in front of women. And Brand had always had a weak spot for Cordelia.  
  
"Thank you, Brand," the brunette gave him a particularly grateful smile,   
then shook her head, "But I'm used to this. Some of us aren't as well   
mannered as others." She sighed heavily at the end of her sentence and shook   
her head again, then smiled inwardly when she saw Brand nailing Riley with   
another hard glare.  
  
Flipping another page, Cordelia looked back at Riley, "Now, tell me   
*Detective* Finn, where do you get the money to pay for all those expensive   
ladies?"  
  
"I don't have to pay for female company, Miss Chase," he hissed through   
gritted teeth. "Usually my body is enough for them."  
  
"Oh really?" she raised a surprised brow, "Oh well, people have different   
tastes," she remarked. "Okay, but you don't deny your... let's call it   
encounters with different women over the last two years."  
  
"No, I don't," he hissed again. "I suppose Buffy told you all about it."  
  
"In fact, she has," Cordelia smiled again, "but coming back to that," she   
pointed at the file, "Your current bank account shows more than ten thousand   
dollars, and you drive a new car. An expensive, European car," she raised   
her eyebrows, "Tell me, how you managed to pay for it?"  
  
"My mother died," he said, controlled again, "But you should know that.   
Buffy's lawyer knew it instantly."  
  
Yes, she knew, it was in the file in front of her, and still it made a grand   
opening for her next hit, "Well, if you'll allow a personal remark, I think   
Buffy earned each penny for all the time she stayed with you," she raised a   
hand when he was about to reply, "Sorry, I got sidetracked," she smiled   
sweetly, "A last question, Mr. Finn," she said almost casually, closing the   
file, "Have you ever heard the code 'Operation Delta'?"  
  
There was a flicker of recognition in his eyes, she noticed, but he covered   
his reaction quickly, and when he finally looked at her his expression was   
completely blank, "No," he shook his head. "I've never heard of it. What   
about it?"  
  
"Nothing that concerns you," she replied, busying herself with opening her   
briefcase and pushing the file inside. "Thank you, Mr. Finn," she said   
without looking up. "That's all. You can go. Thank you for your   
cooperation."  
  
"F..." Riley started, then caught Brend Harmon's gaze, and his lips drew   
into a thin, angry line. He cursed inwardly and wished, not for the first   
time, that Cordelia was just some bitch and not the assistant DA. There was   
no way he could get to her, without endangering his own career. "Ma'am," he   
said instead, then turned and left the room.  
  
As soon as the door was clicked shut Cordelia closed her briefcase, leaned   
back and released a long breath. She turned when she felt Brand's hand on   
her shoulder, "Well done, Miss Chase," he complimented.  
  
"He's right," came her boss' voice over the speaker. "You did a good job.   
And I'd say your personal... er... relationship helped in this case."  
  
Cordelia grinned at the mirror, "Thanks. And yeah. I really hate the guy."  
  
"Who would've guessed," Timothy replied, his voice full of sarcasm. "Take a   
break," he said, "We'll meet in about half an hour to discuss this. Drink   
some coffee." With that the speaker went off.  
  
"Drink some coffee," Cordelia muttered, standing, "If I drink any more   
coffee I'm going to jump up the wall."  
  
"Then what about some home baked muffins and a nice cup of tea?" Brand   
offered with a fatherly smile, "My wife made them yesterday and I have no   
problem sharing."  
  
The brunette looked at him with gratitude, "Brand, you're saving my life,"   
she said and followed him to his office.  
  
*****  
  
"So, how do you feel, being pregnant and all?" Faith asked, plopping on   
Willow's desk beside the computer screen.  
  
"And all?" the redhead raised a brow at her.  
  
"Yeah, you know, morning sickness, cravings, that sort of stuff."  
  
The other brow came up as well, "What do you know about morning sickness?"   
she inquired, suddenly curious.  
  
"Hey," Faith looked as if insulted, "don't look at me that way. I'm not   
pregnant, but I wasn't raised in limbo either. And I read. Books, you know."  
  
"Yeah, I know books," Willow said on a chuckle. "What about them?"  
  
"Duuuh. They tell you stuff. Explain things." When Willow's expression   
didn't change, Faith sighed dramatically, "So much for small talk."  
  
"So much for it," the redhead agreed. "So what was the real reason you   
wanted to talk to me? Do you need a day off or what? Then go to the big   
boss, I'm just the computer specialist."  
  
"No, I don't need a day off. This is more a... uh... personal matter."  
  
"Personal, huh?"  
  
"Yeah. It's... about Buffy," Faith admitted.  
  
"Buffy?" Willow eyed the brunette curiously. Her relationship with Buffy had   
been strained at the least. With Faith being Riley's former lover, the women   
didn't get along well. Since Buffy's breakup with her husband things started   
to get better, but they still weren't back to normal. So Willow   
couldn't quite grasp what this was all about.  
  
"How is she?" Faith asked.  
  
Willow turned in her chair and gestured towards the desk where the blond was   
sitting and reading a new file. "She's right over there. Maybe you should go   
and ask her."  
  
The brunette rolled her eyes, "I know she's there, but I need to hear it   
from you. So how is she?"  
  
"She's been better," the redhead admitted finally. "The divorce is getting   
to her and with Angel around..." she trailed off.  
  
"Ah, Angel," Faith said, glad Willow had given her the entry. "I met him   
Monday night. At the Splash."  
  
Now the redhead's eyes widened, "Angel? At the Splash? But he doesn't   
drink."  
  
"So what?" Faith snorted, "They serve non-alcoholic drinks as well."  
  
"Yes, yeah, I know. But Angel just isn't the type for bars and clubs. He   
never was."  
  
"He said so much himself, but I think he was just seeking for some company."  
  
Willow's eyes narrowed instantly, "And so you thought you'd give him what he   
needed? Is that what you're saying?"  
  
"No," Faith said in sudden anger. "I'm not a slut you know. I don't just   
jump on men as they come." She saw Willow raise a brow, and threw her hands   
in the air, "Okay, think what you want. But the point is, we were talking   
about Buffy."  
  
"You were talking about Buffy?"  
  
Was Willow dense, Faith thought? "That's what I said, wasn't it? And you   
know, you might call me utterly romantic, but I could swear he's still got   
it bad for Buffy. I mean, he didn't say it exactly, but a girl with my   
experience just knows things. Wouldn't it be fun if they got back together?"  
  
Willow's expression changed rapidly, suspicion and anger were gone, and   
replaced with excitement. "You know," the redhead said, smiling, "it's   
interesting to hear you say that, because I have a theory myself. Are you   
interested in a cup of coffee?"  
  
At that Faith smiled as well. It would be nice seeing Buffy and Angel back   
together, she thought. But even more so, she could hardly wait to see the   
expression on Riley's face when he lost his wife to her former lover.  
  
*****  
  
"Oh," Drusilla's voice sounded a bit breathless when without warning a body   
collided with hers. But she smiled when a heavily British accented voice   
suddenly said.  
  
"I would say, I'm sorry, but I'm not. Well, not really." Spike put a hand   
under her elbow and smiled.  
  
"Spike," she said, shifting the files in her arms. "Aren't you a bit late?"   
she asked and glanced at the clock.  
  
"Observation," he answered. "We were out half the night, so the big boss   
gave us the morning off."  
  
"Ah," she nodded.  
  
"Ah, what?" he asked.  
  
Quickly glancing down, she laughed a bit uncertain when she looked up again,   
"Oh, nothing. I just thought you'd be at the Splash again last night." As   
soon as the words were out, a blush crept up her cheeks. Spike thought she   
looked incredibly sweet.  
  
"So you... missed me?" he said, cocking a brow.  
  
"I... uh... well, I wouldn't go that far," she stuttered, "I just... I feel   
comfortable in your company," she admitted.  
  
"You do?" he liked the idea. "Only comfortable?" Comfortable was good.  
Comfortable was fine, but friends felt good in each other's company, and   
what he felt for Drusilla was already far beyond friendship. God help him.  
  
"Not only," she replied and glanced down again. Then - almost angry - she   
frowned, "This is not... I'm not used to this, you know," she admitted. "The   
last guy... my last... you know," she gave him a look, hoping for   
understanding and when he nodded, she continued, "We found out he was a drug   
dealer. It wasn't nice."  
  
Compassion rose in him, "I understand," he said, lying his hand on her   
forearm. "Would you like to go on a date? With me?"  
  
She stared at him at first so that he almost thought she had lost her voice,   
but then suddenly she said, "Yes. I'd like that. Very much actually."  
  
His answering smile was slow, but sweet, "Well then. How about tonight? No   
observations tonight."  
  
"Okay," she laughed a bit breathlessly, "Is eight alright for you?"  
  
"Eight it is," he agreed. "See you then."  
  
She nodded, and was about to turn when his voice held her back, "Where do   
you live? I need your address."  
  
This time her smile was pure female, and Spike felt his body tighten at the   
sight, "You're a police officer," she said, "You should be able to find out."   
Then she turned her hips swinging and left him breathless for a moment.  
  
*****  
  
Thursday, August 24th, 7.00 a.m., Los Angeles  
  
"So what you're telling me is that the girl of the night, the girl - or   
rather the woman - accompanying David Griffin to the Chambers' engagement   
party was Diana Massey?"  
  
"That's what I'm saying," Angel said, picking up his cup of coffee and   
carefully sipping at the hot brew. These early morning meetings with   
Cordelia Chase were going to be fun, he thought acidly. It's not   
that he wasn't a morning person. Actually he was, but he still liked his   
mornings more private, not completely taken over by business.  
  
She was all business, sitting opposite to him, dressed in a conservative   
navy suit, from head to toe screaming that she was the assistant DA. Not the   
sassy fiancée of his friend who was - no doubt - still sleeping like a baby   
in his satin sheets. Doyle, as Angel recalled, wasn't a morning person and   
it would be fun to see those two married for the next fifty odd years.  
  
"And may I ask why you didn't tell me this yesterday?" the brunette asked.   
"Or did you just think, 'hey this isn't important. Why bother Cordelia with   
this development about my ex-lover's sister.'?" Her voice had risen during   
the speech and her eyes were blazing.  
  
His narrowed in reply and an expression entered them who was more than just   
a simple warning, "Be careful," he said slowly, his voice low.  
  
She looked at him for a long moment, and then threw her hands up in defeat,   
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I'm just," she paused and sighed. Then took a sip   
from her coffee. Putting the cup down she gazed back at him, her voice and   
eyes apologetic, "I'm really sorry, but this business isn't any fun for me   
either. I had a rather annoying interrogation yesterday with our beloved   
Riley Finn. If I hadn't know it already, after yesterday I'd swear he's the   
lowest form of life on this planet. A definite..." she trailed off, but of   
course he knew what she was thinking.  
  
"I see," he replied, choosing his words carefully. He knew that Cordelia   
wouldn't tell him what had happened during the interrogation, and he   
wouldn't ask, but, "So he wasn't quite the gentleman, I assume?"  
  
"Gentleman," she echoed, and the disgust so thick that, that one word held   
said more than a whole novel ever would. "I asked him about Operation Delta   
and there was a flicker in his eyes, you know. It was quick, but it was   
there. I have no idea what it means, but my boss certainly has Finn on his   
list. And believe me, you wouldn't want to be on Timothy Philips' list."  
  
"Well, I for once don't care if he's got Riley on his list or not," Angel   
said and meant it. Lists were just that, lists. He was more interested in   
finding out if Riley had his hands in shady business - or if it was Riley at   
all. And besides, he thought, this wasn't about Riley. This was about   
finding a foul egg. "And I have no idea if the fact that David Griffin is   
dating Diana Massey has anything to do with Darla. They never really got   
along. At least not while Darla and I were dating. I saw Diana, once, twice   
max."  
  
"But you're sure about her? I mean you're sure it was her?"  
  
"Oh, yeah," Angel nodded and ran a hand through his hair, "It's not really   
complicated," he told Cordelia, "If you know Darla, you know Diana. They're   
twins."  
  
Cordelia almost choked on her coffee and was about to say something, when   
the door of a room opened and a sleepy eyed and rather groggy Spike stumbled   
into the living room, only wearing his boxers - the same way he had a couple   
days ago. Blinking against the Californian morning sun, he cast his eyes on   
the brunette, "Oh, Miss District Attorney," he grinned, although it was   
rather lopsided, due to the fact that the whole left side of his face was   
covered with interesting colors.  
  
"What the..." Angel was on his feet in an instant, eyeing his friend   
closely, "Whatever happened to you last night?"  
  
Spike's smile changed into a pain-filled grimace and he touched his cheek   
gingerly, "I... uh... had an argument with a local shi... idiot, so to   
speak."  
  
"Some argument," Cordelia commented sarcastically. "I'd say it grew rather   
out of hand."  
  
"Not really," the blond replied, groaning when he touched a special spot   
near his eyebrow. Glancing sideways at Cordelia, he said, "I had a date with   
Drusilla last night. We went to a nice club. I found it yesterday when we   
drove by and thought it might be a nice change to the Splash. So I took her   
there," he sighed deeply, "big mistake. Next time remind me not to chose a   
club if you're not familiar with the town."  
  
"So what happened?" Angel wanted to know, sitting down again and crossing   
his arms in front of his chest, watching his friend expectantly.  
  
"Well," Spike began while he was walking to the kitchen and back, completely   
unconcerned about his lack of clothing, to get an empty cup, "seems the club   
belongs to the brother of an asshole Dru dated before. He wasn't the nicest   
guy, she told me. Crossed Vice. So there we are and as soon as the asshole's   
brother spots Dru he begins to taunt her. Gentleman I am, I couldn't just   
sit by and watch, you know."  
  
"So you... um... decided to save the lady's honor, right?" Angel said, now   
grinning.  
  
"So to speak," Spike replied, pouring himself coffee. Caffeine was a   
necessity. His head was pounding from a mix of alcohol and being beaten up   
by two gorillas and the fact that he'd been the noble one and just brought   
Drusilla home instead of trying to get her between the sheets - preferably   
his.  
  
And that alone was enough reason for a severe headache. Because it pointed   
out that Drusilla wasn't just some casual fling. The blond groaned inwardly.   
Not that he hadn't already noticed the problem. But it was the absolute   
wrong time to fall in love with a possible suspect. Sure, Angel swore,   
Drusilla was clean, but Spike was a cop and as a cop he knew you had to   
expect the unexpected.  
  
When he looked up he saw Cordelia's gaze resting on him, "What?" he asked.   
"Isn't a guy allowed to play the protector?"  
  
"Some protector," she snorted, shaking her head. "From the looks of you I'd   
say you ended up in the gutter. Or do the others look worse?"  
  
"No, not really," he admitted rather quietly. "But hey," he glanced at   
Angel, "they were two, with really big muscles and really mean faces."  
  
"Oh, this is just great. One of my internal officers goes out and lets   
himself be used as a punching bag. Wonderful." Cordelia glared at him.  
  
"Hey, lady. I was out with a girl," Spike wasn't looking at his coffee   
anymore. No, his eyes were solely directed at Cordelia and they were rather   
angry now, "A guy insulted her. What should I do? Just sit there and watch?   
In your dreams." With a last look he stood up and walked into his bedroom,   
slamming the door in her face.  
  
"Explosive character, your friend," Cordelia remarked, turning back towards   
Angel.  
  
"Not really," he replied and tilted his head. "He's just protective. He   
always was. With women and with his partner and I'm more than grateful for   
it."  
  
"Yeah, I heard," she said, all humor vanished from his face. "He saved your   
life one night. I read the reports. It's rather impressive. He carried you   
on his shoulders for over six miles. Regarding your height and weight and   
his, it's very impressive."  
  
"He's my friend and my partner. I would've done the same for him. But yeah,   
it's impressive and I owe him."  
  
This was becoming far too personal, Cordelia decided, "What impression did   
you get of Mike Harmon and his girl? Is this relationship real?"  
  
"It looks like it," Angel was grateful for the change of subjects. He wasn't   
comfortable talking about Spike and his relationship with him with Cordelia.   
The things they had done for each other were between them - and that meant   
private. "He couldn't keep his hand off the woman. And she was smiling at   
him like he'd hung the moon."  
  
"Good for him," Cordelia commented. "And for us. If it's love, I highly   
doubt the money is important. Mike doesn't strike me as the type who needs   
money to impress a woman. He isn't self-conscious."  
  
"No, he isn't," Angel, agreed. "I like him actually. He's got a great sense   
of humor and he's got a lot of experience for his age. Besides, Derryl   
Chambers has money, and yeah, David Griffin was a guest at the party, but   
that doesn't really mean anything."  
  
"I know," Cordelia sighed again, "It's just... I hate this. You know,   
digging through our own trenches to find a traitor."  
  
"Yeah," he agreed again. There was nothing worse than a dirty cop. Cops were   
meant to protect and to clean up, not to change sides. Oh yeah, a dirty cop   
was definitely the worst.  
  
"So who will you be watching next?" she asked.  
  
Angel shrugged, "We haven't decided yet. Maybe Kate Lockley. We'll have to   
see. We have to decide what the best opportunity is. Spike's going to shadow   
Darla today," he then added, "We need to find out if she'll contact her   
sister. We already watched her yesterday, but nothing so far."  
  
Cordelia nodded, and then changed the subject again, "Buffy told me what you   
did for her. When her oh so wonderful soon-to-be ex was behaving like the   
asshole he is."  
  
He gave her an irritated look, "Yeah, and?"  
  
"And nothing. You did good," she smiled, "She had and sometimes still has it   
rough, you know. Riley wasn't just cheating on her. I'm certainly not supposed to   
tell you, and she never told me, but women just know some things."  
  
"Cordelia," now he grew even more irritated.  
  
"He beat her," as if the words hurt her mouth, she spat them.  
  
Angel stared at her, then was on his feet in a flash, his motions jerky, he   
ran a suddenly trembling hand through his hair, "Jesus Christ," he muttered,   
beginning to pace the room. "You're sure?" he asked, stopping shortly to glance   
at her, then continued pacing.  
  
"Yeah," she replied. "Makeup can't cover everything. I'm sure the others   
were completely oblivious, but I always had a thing for makeup."  
  
"No kidding," he remarked, but it didn't sound funny. Actually it sounded as   
if he was ready to hit something. Really hard.  
  
"Yeah, well, anyways. I noticed that the color of the eye shadow on her left   
lid didn't really match the one on her right. I never asked, knowing how   
uncomfortable women are about it. And as Riley moved out of their apartment   
the same afternoon, it didn't happen again. But of course I'm not sure if he   
ever did it before."  
  
"He's lucky I wasn't around," Angel hissed through gritted teeth. He had   
stopped pacing, his fists clenching and unclenching in a steady rhythm. "I   
would've beat him into a bloody pulp. God," he asked nobody in particular,   
"Did I ever know him at all?"  
  
"Seems Spike isn't the only one with a protective streak," Cordelia said as   
she came to stand beside him. Tentatively she reached out and touched his   
arm. When he turned his head to look at her, she gave him a warm smile,   
"It's over," she said slowly. "She'll be divorced soon and all this will be   
nothing more than a bad dream."  
  
"You're wrong," he replied, not heeding to her smile, "those things never   
leave you. You can get divorced. But things like that will change you   
forever." Turning to look out of the window again, he frowned and Cordelia   
wasn't sure if he was just trying to blink the tears in his eyes away. "Did   
you ever look into her eyes? Really look? They're so sad. So lost. They used   
to sparkle with mischief. They used to laugh. Almost all the time. Sure, a   
part of this was vanished when Mike was shoot and she thought I'd killed   
him," he suddenly laughed harshly, "Geez, for all I know she still blames   
me."  
  
"No," Cordelia said firmly, her fingers on his arms tightening, urging him   
to look at her again. "She doesn't blame you for her brother's death. She   
probably never did." She saw the incredulous expression in his eyes and   
shook her head, "Angel, she was devastated when Mike was killed. You know   
how long she needed to finally accept him. He was the embodiment of her   
father's failure to love her mother. But then she loved him. She really   
loved him. And then he was killed, and with your weapon.  
  
"From there everything fell apart. *She* fell apart. I saw her, Angel. She   
couldn't eat or sleep. After a while she couldn't even cry anymore. She   
certainly couldn't think clearly. By the time she woke up she knew she was   
wrong, that you wouldn't have shot Mike, not even unintentionally. You're a   
too good cop, and I know you loved her." She tilted her head, "Probably   
never stopped loving her."  
  
He just looked at her steadily, his expression not changing and she wanted   
to scream. One thing she'd always hated about Angel Reardon was his ability   
to hide his feelings. Damn the man. "Anyways," she continued, "As I said,   
she woke up. Unfortunately she found herself married to Riley and you were   
already gone to New York. You don't just throw your marriage away and run   
after a guy whom you just hurt by rejecting him."  
  
Now his eyes widened in surprise. His expression was a little dazed when he   
whispered "I always thought you saw me responsible for all this mess."  
  
She couldn't help it, but she had to laugh, "Sorry," she said instantly. "I   
know this isn't a laughing matter. But no, I never thought you responsible   
for it. Or only a little bit. Maybe I blamed you for not fighting harder,   
for not being a bit more stubborn."  
  
"I didn't want to cause her more pain." His voice was still not more than a   
whisper. Then it hit him, "She really doesn't blame me?"  
  
Her smile warmed even more, "No," she assured him. "So maybe knowing that,   
you could... well, try to right the wrong?"  
  
"Cordelia," he sighed loudly, "I... I just don't know. It's been four years.   
A long time. A lot of things happened. I don't even know how she feels about   
me. If she's still interested."  
  
"Well," she let go of his hand, her smile turning a bit wicked, "As I see   
it, you'll never know until you try."  
  
... to be continued 


	4. Chapter 4

Unforgettable - Part 4  
  
##...## Indicates flashbacks  
  
The same day, 11.00 a.m.  
  
"So you see, Detective Summers," Giles was saying, "We need this report by   
Monday - and that's the last possible date..."  
  
Buffy nodded absentmindedly at his words, tuning out from time to time, her   
eyes repeatedly flickering to Drusilla's desk outside the lieutenant's   
office, her irritation growing by the second.  
  
Angel was there with the raven-haired woman, he was sitting on the edge of   
her desk, laughing from time to time, leaning forward toward her. They made   
a picture perfect couple. She couldn't hear a word they were saying and it   
was very likely the whole scene was completely innocent, but she couldn't   
help the distinct pang of jealousy she was feeling at the sight of them so   
close.  
  
There never had been anything between Angel and his rookie four years ago   
but that didn't mean it couldn't happen now. But hadn't she noticed that   
Spike had shown interest in Drusilla? Angel wouldn't try to hit on his   
friend's love-interest, not after what he'd been through himself. Buffy was   
sure of that, if nothing else.  
  
And why the hell did she care anyway? She had no claim on Angel Reardon,   
with his deep brown eyes you wanted to drown in, his sensual mouth, the well   
muscled body and... God, just shoot me, she thought. She had no right to   
feel this way, she told herself firmly. Not after she'd sent him away, when   
he came all but begging her to rethink her decision, not to throw their love   
away and she'd told him she hadn't known a thing about love, until Riley had   
come along and shown her the real thing.  
  
Real thing, my ass, she snorted inwardly. Yes, Riley certainly had shown her   
the real thing. But it hadn't been love. Far from it. As far as Riley was   
concerned, love could've been a word from old Egyptian it was so foreign to   
him. Jealousy, anger, bitterness. Those were more the words he was   
acquainted with. And violence.  
  
Now Angel was leaning forward and one of his hands came to lie on Drusilla's   
shoulder. She had to turn away, not able to watch any longer and she started   
when her gaze landed on Giles who had stopped talking and was eyeing her   
closely, speculatively. "What?" she asked, trying to shake off the images   
that were running wild in her head. Angel kissing Drusilla, undressing her,   
making... God, maybe she was finally going to lose it. But she could still feel   
his hands on her, stroking her, his voice soothing her, telling her everything   
would be all right after Riley had tried to hurt her in the worst possible   
way.  
  
"I was just wondering where you were," Giles said gently, then turned his   
head, nodding pointedly at Angel and Drusilla who were now laughing   
wholeheartedly. "Of course it wasn't hard to figure out."  
  
"I'm sorry," she replied, the fingers of her right hand playing with her   
long, blond hair. "I seem to have problems concentrating today. Didn't sleep   
well, I guess. With the upcoming divorce and all," she added.  
  
"Yes, sure, the divorce," Giles said mildly, not hiding that he didn't   
believe one word she was saying. There was no denying what was disturbing   
his officer this morning. Not that he thought for one moment that Angel   
Reardon was even slightly interested in Drusilla Petersen. He was too old   
not to see the way Angel was looking at Buffy every time he thought she   
wouldn't see.   
  
Their love affair may have been over for a long time, but   
Giles was sure the love wasn't - not by a long shot. They just came with a   
lot of baggage, and regarding that fact it was a rough road they had ahead of   
them. He admitted to himself that he was wrong to think that it   
wouldn't be good for Buffy to see Angel again. Reassessing the situation now   
he was sure it was quite the opposite. For the first time in years Buffy   
looked more than just plain mentally dead.  
  
"Yeah," the blond replied, glad he didn't insist on talking about Angel. No   
way she would talk with her boss about Angel, "it's rather messy." She   
inhaled deeply, "But of course this isn't something that belongs here."  
  
"Oh, I wouldn't agree," he said, giving her a smile, "You and your   
soon-to-be ex-husband are both detectives of this precinct, so maybe the   
private parts of the divorce aren't my business, but if it intrudes work it   
sure as hell is. He's giving you a hard time?"  
  
She looked at him and hesitated for a moment, before she sighed, "Well, he's   
just Riley I guess. I didn't realize what kind of guy he was when we got   
together. And I didn't know for a while after we're married. But soon," she   
sighed again. "This really isn't fun. And now he just behaves... typical, I   
suppose. Don't get me wrong, I still think he's a good cop, his record is   
proof of that, but... maybe, we just didn't match."  
  
"Or the situation was wrong," Giles remarked, understanding in his eyes.   
"You married him when you were very vulnerable, when you thought you'd been   
betrayed by a man you thought you loved."  
  
There was such deep knowledge in his words that Buffy shivered   
involuntarily. Her own problems forgotten for the moment, she asked, "Who   
was she?" Startled by her blunt question, he drew a sharp breath, and she   
held up a hand, "You don't have to tell me. It's not any of my business,"   
she said, smiling apologetically.  
  
"No, it isn't," he replied, his smile incredibly sad, "It happened a long   
time ago. I loved her, very much. But then I found out that she just used me   
by forwarding all the things I thought were said in private to her brother   
who happened to be deeply into drugs. So you see, I can relate. Only that   
Angel didn't do anything."  
  
"No, he didn't," she agreed. "But when all the stuff happened, I wasn't... I   
couldn't..." she stopped, not really knowing how to explain her feelings the   
days and weeks after her half-brother had been shot accidentally in a   
cross-fire with Angel's weapon.  
  
"Think straight?," he asked, his eyes warm and understanding.  
  
All she could reply was giving him a small, miserable nod.  
  
"You don't have to tell me," Giles said gently, "And this," he pointed at a   
file on his desk, "can certainly wait another day. We could meet tomorrow   
after lunch to talk about it."  
  
"Thanks," she smiled gratefully, "Thanks, Giles."  
  
"No problem. Maybe you should just talk to him," he suggested.  
  
Now her smile was sad, "I think it's much too late for this. I missed my   
chance for," she shrugged, "Well, I missed it."  
  
"If you say so," he said, not quite believing her. She was already at the   
door, when his voice made her turn around, "And Buffy, there will never be   
anything but friendship between Drusilla Peterson and Angel," he was smiling   
in the end.  
  
"Yeah, I know," she said, but the sadness was still present, "But that   
doesn't mean, he's going to risk his heart again with me, does it?" With   
this she slipped from his office, her gaze instantly turning towards   
Drusilla's desk, but there was only the female officer, Angel Reardon was   
nowhere in sight.  
  
*****  
  
17.00 p.m.  
  
Not only Spike hated observations, Angel mused while he was sitting in his   
car that was standing in front of a huge brick stone house that looked as if   
it should be standing in Boston. It looked so completely out of place that   
it was almost funny. Almost.  
  
And the reason Angel was sitting in his car in front of the out-of-place   
house was that it was another of Derryl Chambers' properties. Simone   
Chambers had entered the house, and Angel was sure it was to check out the   
place. What he hadn't expected was for Riley Finn to arrive only minutes   
afterwards. This had been about an hour ago and neither Mike Harmon's   
fiancée nor the detective had come out again. Angel couldn't be sure what   
was going on inside the walls, but it sure was suspicious as hell.  
  
He glanced to his side and sighed at the sight of several empty cans of coke   
and some other stuff littering his car, all leftovers of Spike's presence during   
the past days. Not today though. The blond was - as Angel had told Cordelia -   
following Darla Massey and Angel couldn't wait to hear what he would have to   
say in the evening. Diana Massey was dating David Griffin. He shook his   
head. Jesus, this case was certainly complicated.  
  
Despite the litter that was covering the floor of his car, Angel missed   
Spike today. He missed his cocky retorts and comments, his dry humor and the   
way he could see things clearly as glass. And he could certainly use that   
now, when the observation of Simone Chambers had suddenly turned into an   
observation of Riley Finn as well.  
  
Angel had planned to leave Riley to Spike, as he'd done it with Darla, but   
now fate had decided against it and although Angel didn't like the situation,   
there was absolutely nothing he could do to change it. He could hardly call   
Cordelia and refuse to investigate Riley. Nope, no way he could do that. The   
brunette would laugh - not in a friendly way - and just slam the receiver back   
down, thinking he'd lost his marbles.  
  
None of them could understand - maybe not even Spike - how he felt about   
Riley Finn. His feelings were so mixed up he had a hard time understanding   
them. When Cordelia had told him about Riley beating Buffy anger had been   
the dominant one. Not just anger, rage. It had been all he could do not to   
leave the apartment, search for Riley and beat him up the way he did to   
Buffy. God, just thinking about it, made Angel's stomach churn.  
  
What on earth had happened to the Riley Finn he'd known almost since they'd   
played together in pampers? If, and that was the really painful question,   
he'd ever been there at all. Could all their times together just have been a   
clever disguise? No, Angel dismissed the thought quickly. No way, a little   
boy could be that twisted. No, their friendship had been genuine. They had   
laughed together, joked together. Like the night, after the first football   
game in their sophomore year in high school when Riley had fallen for Lucy   
Turner, two years his senior and in the blonde's eyes extremely hot...  
  
##"Man that game's a bitch," Riley slid down along the wall in the boy's   
locker room, completely exhausted, bruised and hurting, but grinning   
nonetheless.  
  
"Yeah," Angel agreed, opening the door of his locker and throwing his sweaty   
sneakers inside. Turning his head he was grinning as well, "But we won."  
  
"We sure have," the blond was wiping his dirty face, a blue bruise already   
showing under his right eye. "Did you see the huge giant they had in their   
defense line?" he asked.  
  
"I did," Angel, commented, his grin never wavering, "Got you straight."  
  
Riley chuckled at that and struggled to stand up. Playing high school   
football could be fun, but he would give a lot for a hot bath now. Tomorrow   
his body would be hurting like hell. He groaned when he already cold muscles   
protested against a certain movement, "Don't laugh," he warned his friend,   
"This isn't funny."  
  
"Oh, but I think it is," the dark-haired boy replied, chuckling as well.   
"And don't think I didn't see Lucy Turner following every of your moves."  
  
The blonde's head jerked around, "She did?" he asked, wondering why his   
voice was suddenly sounding so breathless.  
  
"Yeah," Angel chuckled again, incredulously shaking his head, "Although I   
still can't see why you have the hots for her."  
  
"You can't?" now it was Riley's term to look incredulous. "Do you want to   
tell me, you haven't seen her great ass and tits? I would bet she needs a   
D-cup already."  
  
Angel groaned and rolled his eyes, "Is there anything else you are   
interested in a woman besides her body?"  
  
"Nope," the blond grinned wickedly and pulled his dirt stained shirt over   
his head, "A great body is pretty much everything. Hey, I'm young. I want to   
enjoy myself, celebrate live. If not now, I wonder when it's going to   
happen."  
  
"God, you're gross," his friend said with disgust. Riley could be such a   
jerk. Ass and tits - hardly the only important attributes of a girl. Not   
that Angel didn't appreciate certain attributes, but he preferred a girl who   
could also talk about interesting subjects anytime. Wham-bam in bed might be   
fun, Angel guessed, but there had to be more. Of course he had no way of   
really knowing it. He was, much to Riley's amusement, still a virgin.  
  
His friend, of course, wasn't. Not that it was something special to not be a   
virgin as a sophomore in high school. Angel's mother had been shocked to the   
bone when he'd told her that most of the guys in his class had already slept   
with a girl. The world would come to an end, she'd said and it had been so   
typical for Carmen Reardon, the Mexican girl that had married his thoroughly   
Irish father. It was her whom he had to thank for his first name, the cause   
of lots of laughs throughout the years. But his mother was proud of it,   
always smiling and stroking his head, saying 'you're my Angel. You never   
brought anything but joy to this family.'  
  
"Gross, huh?" Riley interrupted his musings, "Well, not everyone can be as   
holy as you, Angel." ##  
  
Had there been an edge in his voice all those years ago, Angel tried to   
remember now. It had been 20 years ago, too much to be sure he remembered   
correctly. But maybe even then Riley had been eaten up with the sort of   
jealousy Angel had experienced in full four years ago. And that was the   
worst, the fact that he doubted everything now. Every gesture, every   
friendly arm around his shoulder, every pat on his back - what had been   
genuine and what... not?  
  
Running a hand through his hair he exhaled a breath he didn't even know he'd   
been holding. God, he hated this. Hated all this stuff being dragged up   
again. He thought he had left it all behind when he'd moved to New York,   
burying all his dreams of love and a future in the process. Burying Riley   
with them. But of course he'd been lying to himself. Things like these had a   
way of haunting you and he knew there hadn't been a day when Buffy hadn't   
been on his mind at least for a moment - several times a day. You didn't   
just leave the love of your life and forget about it. She might have done   
that, but he had never been able to - although if he believed Cordelia, he   
hadn't been far from Buffy's thoughts either.  
  
He looked up when the door of the brick house opened and first Simone and   
then Riley appeared again. There was nothing indicating that it had been   
more than just a business meeting - even though that was quite strange,   
regarding the fact that Simone was the daughter of one of the richest men on   
the west coast and Riley was nothing more than a police officer, the son of   
poor Irish immigrants.  
  
Angel would have sworn that Simone was in love with Mike Harmon the night   
before. The way she had touched him, had smiled at him, looked at him.  
  
She was jerking her arm away now from Riley who had tried to touch her,   
glaring at him, her eyes narrowed and full of hate. What the hell was going   
on here? Angel wanted to jump from the car and ask them, but of course there   
was no way he could do that.  
  
Riley was shouting at her now, but they were too far away for Angel to hear   
what they were saying. She was shouting back, her whole body trembling with   
rage, her eyes blazing. Then she turned round, slipped inside her car and   
drove away, the wheels burning the asphalt. She couldn't get away quickly   
enough.  
  
Riley turned and now that Angel could see his face. He could also see the   
smile on his face. And it made his blood freeze. It was an evil smile, the   
smile of a man who held power - over a woman. The woman in question   
undoubtedly had been Simone. And she hated the blond. But why on earth then   
had her face been flushed in a way that could only mean one thing?   
  
Damned, if Angel just knew what the hell was going on.  
  
*****  
  
18.30 p.m.  
  
"Welcome in my humble home, my friend and," Doyle paused when Angel just   
breezed past him without any greeting, then shut the door behind the   
dark-haired man, "just make yourself at home," he added, certain that Angel   
hadn't listened to one word he'd been saying.  
  
"Doyle did you remember to put the white wine into the fridge and..."   
Cordelia was just coming out of the kitchen and stopped dead in tracks when   
her eyes fell on their visitor. One of her perfect eyebrows rose in a   
mixture of surprise and indignation, "And what brings you here?"  
  
"The job," Angel said curtly, not even bothering to greet his friends.  
  
"That's too bad," she replied, already turning towards the kitchen again,   
"because as I already told you, this is job-free time. No work in my free   
time. We can talk tomorrow, come to my office at noon."  
  
"Screw that," he told her, his voice holding definite anger and annoyance.  
  
Not used to Angel using that kind of language around her, Cordelia froze for   
a second, and turned back to him - almost in slow motion. Then her   
eyebrow rose again, "Excuse me?"  
  
He looked at her steadily, "I said screw that. And don't use that attitude   
on me. For once we know each other too long and too well, secondly I really   
don't give a damn about your free time. You tell me I have to get used to   
you showing up at my doorstep at 7.00 a.m., so you have to get used to the   
fact that important news won't wait until *you* have office hours.   
Understood?"  
  
Cordelia could only stare at him. From the corner of her eye she saw Doyle   
was trying to suppress a grin that was threatening to spread across his   
lips. Of course *he* was enjoying the situation tremendously. Leaning   
against the wall, his arms crossed, he had the best view of this completely   
humiliating situation. Well, she knew when she'd lost, she thought. Closing   
her eyes for a moment, she took a deep breath, and in opening her eyes   
again, she said, "Understood."  
  
Doyle almost did a double take at that, and this time the brunette had to   
suppress a grin. He had expected her to shout and spit at Angel, certainly   
not to give in like that. But when she looked at him again, she could see   
the shine of pride in his eyes at her reaction and she knew again why she   
loved Doyle more than anything in the world. Oh yes, their marriage would be   
far from boring, but God, she could hardly wait to become Mrs. Doyle.  
  
Angel, obviously as surprised as her soon-to-be husband, had to clear his   
throat, before he said, "Good."  
  
"Now that we understand each other," Cordelia said, proceeding towards the   
kitchen to save her Beuf Bovignon from burning into something unrecognizable   
and definitely un-eatable, "why don't you tell me why you came. What is so   
important that couldn't wait until tomorrow?" She took the spoon to stir the   
sauce, not looking at the door, but sensing the movement announcing Angel's   
presence.  
  
"Actually there are two things I wanted to tell you, and if you remember, it   
was you who were bitching this morning about not telling you the things   
a.s.a.p. So here I am."  
  
He was leaning against the doorway now, almost casually, making her blood   
boil. She really liked Angel Reardon. She really did. Most of the time. But   
at certain times he could be the most infuriating, most annoying best friend   
of her soon-to-be husband. On the other hand he was also the best cop she could   
get for the job and so she swallowed an angry retort, took another calming   
breath, "I guess I have to accept that," she replied slowly.  
  
He actually had the guts to grin at that. Of all the annoying guys in the   
world... "I know how difficult this was for you," he said then, surprising   
her completely. "And I apologize for it. But coming back to the more   
important subject-"  
  
"Yes, that would be too nice," she retorted sarcastically.  
  
He grinned again, exchanging a wink with Doyle, who was by now sitting on   
the sofa, sipping at a glass of obviously nice Brandy, still enjoying the   
exchange, tremendously. "Well, first off, Spike called. Darla met her sister   
Diana twice today," he told her, "something that's strange enough, but   
Spike swore that the second time an envelope was exchanged."  
  
Cordelia put the spoon aside, turned to the fridge and holding a cup of   
cream in her hand looked at him, "Hmm. Interesting. Any ideas what was   
inside the envelope?"  
  
"None," Angel replied. "But it wasn't money," he added. "Spike is absolutely   
positive about it and he's the best cop I know."  
  
"Besides you, of course," she remarked, smirking, then poured the cream into   
her sauce.  
  
"Thanks for the compliment," he said, grinning, but was serious again in an   
instant, when he continued, "I was following Simone Chambers. I got a phone   
call late this morning and so used the opportunity to check her out. Turns   
out that she has some very interesting... acquaintances."  
  
Cordelia turned her head and raised her brow again, "Oh?"  
  
"Oh, yes," he retorted. "She disappeared into a building in West Hollywood   
and you have three guesses who arrived there just ten minutes later and then   
stayed with her inside of the house for about an hour."  
  
"I never liked guessing games, Angel. So just tell me."  
  
"Riley Finn."  
  
The spoon she'd just picked up to stir her sauce clattered to the floor, her   
gaze flew around to him, and from the corner of his eye Angel could see that   
Doyle had left his spot on the sofa as well and was now joining his fiancée and   
friend in the kitchen. "Say that again," he demanded, not sure he had heard   
correctly.  
  
"Riley Finn," Angel repeated, uncrossing his arms and bending down to pick   
up the spoon. Placing it in the sink, he looked back at Cordelia. "And do   
you want to hear something even more interesting? When they came out, they   
were arguing, heavily. I've seen angry women, and I can tell you this woman   
hates Riley Finn, but the really disturbing part is, that I could swear she   
looked remarkably like someone who just had sex with him."  
  
*****  
  
Friday, August 25th, 7.00 a.m., Los Angeles  
  
Buffy leaned against the counter in her kitchen and looked out of the window   
onto the street beneath her. Los Angeles was already busy, even this early.   
It was Friday and life started early because people wanted to leave their   
offices as early as possible to start their weekend.  
  
Weekend.  
  
It once meant a time to relax, to enjoy spending time with the people she   
loved, for family and friends. But not anymore. First of all there wasn't   
any family left and her friends... Well, they were all married now or going   
to be soon and for quite some time the feeling of loneliness had increased   
on weekends.  
  
Maybe it was because she'd finally hit the big 3-0. Or maybe it was just   
that she couldn't remember the last time she had had fun. No, that wasn't   
fair. She had fun, sometimes, when one of her friends choose to save her   
from herself and dragged her out of her apartment. She would laugh and joke   
with them, but deep inside the emptiness wouldn't leave.  
  
Empty. Yes, she felt empty and exhausted. Not physically. Physically she was   
perfectly fit, she was working out three times a week, ran every other day   
for about an hour after work. It came in handy if you had to chase down a   
suspect. Last week she'd outrun a thief and she was extremely satisfied that   
she hadn't even broken a sweat.  
  
Yes, physically she was fine. Her mental state was an entirely different   
matter. But maybe she earned it. Earned it for wasting her one chance for   
happiness, for love. Maybe if she'd been stronger, not been so devastated by   
her brother's death, she wouldn't have listened to Riley. God, "if" was the   
worst word in the world.  
  
Willow believed there was a chance she and Angel could get together again.   
But she had no idea, not the slightest idea what her best friend had done.   
Yes, Buffy had told the redhead that she'd sent Angel away, but she didn't   
know the hurtful words Buffy had said. The blond, on the other hand,   
remembered them all to well...  
  
##  
Buffy frowned at the face in the mirror. It was a pretty face, flawless   
almost, a woman, she even smiled but her eyes were strangely dead. They were   
hazel like hers. Over all, the woman looked familiar, but somehow Buffy   
wasn't able to find herself in the reflection.  
  
In a few minutes she would marry Riley Finn. She would be Riley Finn's wife.   
She would make a vow to love him, to honor him, to be with him until they   
both died. It was exactly what she wanted. She loved Riley. Didn't she?  
  
God, her mind was so muddled, nothing made sense anymore. Nothing was real   
since that terrible day that had cost the life of the only relative she had left.   
Just yesterday Riley had kissed her and told her that in only 24 hours she   
would have a brand new family. His family. Their family, he'd said. It   
sounded so good, then why didn't it warm her heart? Why didn't it warm her   
soul?  
  
She was interrupted in her thoughts when the door opened. She knew it wasn't   
Cordelia because she had refused to come at all. But she thought it was   
Willow coming to check on her for the last time, so she didn't look up and   
inserted her second earring instead. "I'll be ready soon, Will, don't   
worry," she said.  
  
"I'd rather you not be ready at all or at least for another man."  
  
Buffy wasn't sure if her heart had stopped beating that very moment, but she   
was having a problem breathing.  
  
His voice was very soft, when he added, "You look beautiful, Buffy. Like I   
always imagined you would look on your wedding day." He didn't come any   
closer, just stayed near the door, looking at her, watching her.  
  
"Angel," she managed to acknowledge his presence. He was the last person she   
expected to be here, but maybe she should have. He'd tried to talk to her   
again and again during the past couple weeks. She'd refused to see him. And   
now here he was. She didn't want to see him, didn't want to talk to him. She   
could only think about an evening six weeks ago when all her hopes had been   
shattered with a single shot that went through her brother's heart. "What a   
surprise," she said finally, her voice sounding strange, even to herself. It   
wasn't the warm sound she was used to; it was cold, lifeless, without   
emotion.  
  
"Is it really?" he asked, taking one tentative step towards her. "A   
surprise? You really thought I would just stand by and let you marry him?   
Watch you make the biggest mistake of your life? You don't know me very well   
then."  
  
"Yes, that's true," she replied, standing up slowly. "I don't know you very   
well."  
  
"But you do," he said, taking another step, "Don't you remember, Buffy?" he   
asked, "Did you forget all the time we spent together? All the times, we   
loved each other, touched-"  
  
"That isn't important anymore," she cut him off, turning and staring at him   
through cold eyes. "Whatever was between us, died with Mike. It died the day   
you decided to end his life."  
  
It was almost a physical blow and Angel actually had to draw a sharp breath,   
fighting against a sudden tightness in his throat, a nausea that threatened to   
consume him. She could see how hard he fought for control and it gave her some   
sort of twisted pleasure. She wanted him to suffer. The way she suffered. He   
could burn in hell for all she cared, Mike was dead and he wasn't.  
  
"Not important, huh?" he said, his voice hoarse. "Well, it is for me. I love   
you Buffy. You really think I would harm a person you love? You really think   
I would kill Mike? I wouldn't have been able to harm him. He was your   
brother and I liked him. He was fun. But even if I hadn't, the fact that you   
loved him..." he ran a hand through his hair, "Do you really think I'm   
capable of killing someone? Anyone?"  
  
She made a sound that was somewhere between a snort and a laugh, "As I   
already told you. I don't know you. I have no idea what you're capable of.   
And as far as I'm concerned you can just leave. I don't want to listen to   
you any longer. In a few minutes I'm going to be married."  
  
That was another blow. He flinched, and only six weeks ago the pain in his   
eyes would've made her weep. Not anymore though. There was no pity left   
inside of her, there was nothing inside of her. She was a walking shell.   
Going through life on autopilot.  
  
"To the wrong man," he replied, managing to stay calm. She could see how   
hard he was struggling. "You're not in love with Riley. You love me."  
  
He had no idea, she thought. Love? What was love? A sudden panic took hold   
of her for a moment. In a few minutes she was going to marry. A man she was   
supposed to love. Did she really love him? Did she even care? Fortunately   
she had herself under control again, "Oh really?" she raised a cool eyebrow   
at him. "And you're the expert, aren't you? Well, let me tell you that I   
*am* in love with Riley. Actually Riley just showed me real love."  
  
This time he had to blink. The moistness in his eyes came instantly and   
without warning. "Real love?" he echoed incredulously.  
  
"Oh yes. Love. He loves me. With all his heart," she said without mercy,   
enjoying the tightening of his lips, the way his jaw locked. Then she took   
aim for her next blow, wanting to hurt him even more, "And you know. I   
thought I knew all about making love. I was wrong. Riley was able to show me   
another dimension."  
  
He turned away. Swiftly. Violently. His fists were clenching and unclenching   
at his sides. Six weeks ago, she would've reached out and apologized for   
hurting him, for being so cruel. But the Buffy of six weeks ago was dead,   
died when she read that the weapon that killed her brother had been Angel's.   
The new Buffy however still wasn't satisfied, "And I love him. I love him in a   
way I didn't think I was able to love. Everything before it pales in comparison."  
  
He didn't turn to her again. He just walked to the door, opened it, and   
paused for a moment. "Good luck then," he whispered, his voice broken, his   
shoulders slumped in defeat. Then he walked out of the room and out of her   
life.##  
  
That had been four years ago, but to Buffy it felt as if it happened   
yesterday. Tears were running down her cheeks and she wiped them away with   
the back of her hand. God, she wanted to run to him and plead for   
forgiveness, tell him that she hadn't meant a single word. That she didn't   
blame him and that she loved him and...  
  
Her breath caught in her throat and she closed her eyes for a moment against   
the revelation the memory had brought with it. There was no way she could   
lie to herself any longer. She loved Angel Reardon. Still loved him. It also   
implied that she'd never stopped loving him. That was the simple truth.   
Riley had sensed it, although Buffy had tried so hard to keep it locked up   
in some safe place, not visible to anyone.  
  
At first her marriage with Riley had been okay. They had laughed together,   
spent time together. She had genuinely liked him even if she couldn't return   
the love he told her he felt. But after a while it had changed. Buffy wasn't   
quite sure how it had happened. Riley had changed or maybe she'd just woken   
up and finally realized she was living a lie.  
  
And still she had tried. You just didn't throw a marriage away, even if it   
was a mistake. So she had tried, again and again. Had even overlooked   
Riley's infidelity at first. She even believed it was her fault because she   
couldn't return his love. Then Cordelia had visited her one evening, another   
evening when Riley had called and told her he was working late on a   
difficult case. A lie of course.  
  
Cordelia had told her what she thought of her so-called marriage and of   
Riley and the mess her life had become. And after a week of thinking about   
it, Buffy had come to the conclusion that her friend was right. So the next   
Sunday she'd confronted Riley, hoped against reason that they would find a   
solution, to save their friendship if not their marriage.  
  
And he went berserk. She'd never seen him like this. He just lost it. First   
he shouted, taunted and accused her of not being able to love him. When she   
hadn't been able to deny it, he hit her. Once, twice and then again. In the   
end he'd just looked at her and the way she was lying on the ground, one eye   
already swelling, blood trickling from her lip. "You're a whore," he'd said.   
"Nothing but a cheap whore. I know lots of them, you know, but you're the   
worst. Nobody would ever pay for your service. You're a pathetic lover.   
Frankly, I don't know what Angel ever saw in you."  
  
"I'm going to file for a divorce," she'd told him, wiping the blood from her   
lips but not standing up. "Tomorrow I'm going to contact a lawyer."  
  
He just shrugged and took his coat from the hook, "Do as you please," then   
he stopped and turned to her, his smile cruel, "Oh and while you're at it. I   
had lots of contacts with women during the last two years. You understand,"   
he winked, making it very clear what sort of contact he was talking about,   
"Maybe you should see a doctor too. About infective diseases, you know."   
With another wink he was gone and Buffy had struggled to get on her feet,   
then ran to the bathroom where she emptied her stomach, feeling sick in a   
way she'd never felt before.  
  
God, she'd been such a fool, she thought, her sightless eyes still directed   
towards the street. It could have been so different if she hadn't freaked   
after Mike's death, if she'd been able to believe Angel's words at the   
inquiry, or Drusilla and Faith who had sworn he hadn't used his weapon that   
evening. But it wasn't any different and now she was paying the price for   
her stupidity. Had been paying it for four years.  
  
A sob tore from her throat and she wrapped her arms around herself, wishing   
it were Angel's arms that were holding her the way they did a few days ago.   
Wishing he would talk to her, tell her he forgave her, that he still loved   
her.  
  
She startled when the phone suddenly rang. Pulling herself together she   
reached for it, "Yes?"  
  
"Hi, Buffy," came a cheerful voice from the other end of the line.  
  
"Faith?" the blond asked incredulously.  
  
"Yeah, it's me. Are you busy tonight? Because if not, would you like to have   
a drink with me at the Splash after work."  
  
"A drink with you?" Buffy had the feeling she was suddenly living in a dream   
world. The relationship between her and Faith was strained at best.  
  
"Yes, that's what I said. Look, now that you dumped the ass- I mean Riley,   
don't you think there's a way we could bury our... uh... problems? I'm not   
expecting you to be my bestest bud after all this, but what about a peaceful   
co-existence. Hey if Americans and Russians can manage..." she joked,   
trailing off.  
  
The blond thought about it for a moment, and then decided, the brunette was   
right. Their problems had mainly centered around Riley and there was no way   
she would allow her husband to rule her life any longer. "Sure," she said,   
"Why not. At the Splash, after work. I'll be there."  
  
"Good," Faith replied. "See you then. And Buffy, thanks for not just hanging   
up on me."  
  
Replacing the receiver, Buffy stared at it for a moment. Spending an evening   
with Faith at the Splash? Well, still better than spending it alone at her   
apartment. Better than just hoping for a dream that might never come true.  
  
****  
  
Faith pressed the red button of her cellular phone and slowly turned around.  
  
"Well?"  
  
"Well, what?" she said, grinning.  
  
"Arrrgh," Willow threw her hands in the air, "What did she say? Is she   
coming?"  
  
"Yep."  
  
The redhead's eyes lightened up, "Good," she beamed. "Now all we have to do,   
is to get Angel there as well."  
  
Faith smirked and patted Willow's shoulder, "That, girlfriend, is your   
problem. I've done my part."  
  
*****  
  
Same day, 11.00 a.m.  
  
"I'd really like to know what they're talking about."  
  
Riley looked up to find Darla sitting at the edge of his desk, her face   
directed towards Giles' office where the lieutenant was sitting and   
obviously listening to Angel and Spike, the former pacing in agitated steps,   
gesturing from time to time. Riley gave Darla a look, then shrugged.  
  
"Can you imagine what's going on in there?" she asked, not able to take her   
eyes from Angel Reardon, the embodiment of her secret, or not so secret,   
fantasies.  
  
"No," Riley replied, slowly getting annoyed with her. The last thing he   
wanted to think about was his so-called former best friend. Involuntarily   
his eyes darted to Buffy's desk, but in not seeing her there he remembered   
that she and Xander had left early to check out new information for a case   
they were working on.  
  
"I would really like to know. Giles doesn't look happy, that's for sure."  
  
Riley was about to retort something not very nice when Kate joined them,   
"Who doesn't look happy?" she asked.  
  
"Giles," Darla replied, "He looks as if he's eaten something he can't   
digest."  
  
"Oh," Kate's eyes were wide and now she was staring at Giles' office as   
well.  
  
"Look," Riley said, pointing at the file on his desk, "I have work to do   
here. I'm not interested in what's going on in there." It was an outright   
lie of course. He would have given a month's salary to know what they were   
discussing. Then he snickered, "Maybe our New York cops have already fallen   
out of Giles' good graces."  
  
"Yeah, yeah, for all you care he could go to hell, we know," Darla said,   
"but fortunately nobody here is interested in your opinion." She stood and   
exchanged a glance with her partner. Kate nodded and the two women returned   
to their own desk.  
  
Riley's eyes followed them. There was no doubt that Darla still had the hots   
for Angel. Riley remembered everything that had happened between them all   
those years ago. Angel had still trusted him then, and told him all the gory   
details, including the way Darla had been clinging to him. It was pathetic.   
Darla was pathetic in her feelings for the dark-haired man. She had to be   
about 10 years older than Angel.  
  
Riley snorted in disgust and looked back at Giles' office. No, Angel   
certainly wouldn't be interested in the blond detective, but you never knew   
when some information you knew came in handy. With a satisfied smile he   
continued reading the files.  
  
*  
  
Angel stopped his pacing for a moment to look at Giles, "I have the feeling   
there's a lot more to this case than we've ever dreamed of."  
  
"Dream?" Giles shook his head and sighed deeply, "I'd call it a nightmare. I   
can still hardly believe what you've been telling me. Diana Massey, Darla   
Massey and then Riley Finn with Simone Chambers," he shook his head again.   
He hated this, had hated it from the beginning but with each day he hated it   
even more. One dirty cop was already enough in his eyes, but now it looked   
as if there could be several.  
  
"Here's something none of us have thought about so far," Spike said,   
studying his hands thoughtfully, then he looked up and straight into Giles'   
eyes, "Who says that the case is connected to them? It's possible   
neither of them has anything to do with what we're looking for. I mean, who   
says that Darla and her sister are up to something at all? Or that Simone doesn't   
just want to have one final fling before Mike puts the ring on her finger."  
  
"Believe me, Simone didn't look as if she enjoyed her hour with Riley. She   
looked ready to kill him. I've seen rage in women's eyes and Simone was   
certainly raging," Angel replied, sitting down beside his partner.  
  
"And you're sure you're not making more of it than there is?" Giles asked   
tentatively.  
  
"Making more of it?" Angel raised a brow, understanding dawning in his eyes,   
"I see, because Riley and I had - have - several issues, I'd want to nail   
his ass?" he asked, his voice uncommonly soft. Spike knew what it meant. His   
friend was walking on the edge and he was close to exploding. As he'd   
expected Angel's eyes narrowed, "Believe it or not," he said, "I want to   
know who the dirty cop is but I'd rather not see Riley hang for it. Issues   
or not, we go way back and the idea of arresting him," he exhaled sharply   
and shook his head, "It's like arresting my brother."  
  
"Yes, I understand," Giles replied slowly, and nodded, "But you are aware   
that Riley might be the one we're looking for."  
  
"Yeah," the dark-haired man nodded too, "I realize that. And there is a part   
of me that wants him punished for all the things he did to Buffy and me. For   
the way he treated her, but then I think back about other times, better   
times and..." he shook his head again, "I never thought this would be so   
hard."  
  
Spike and Giles exchanged a short understanding look, then the Lieutenant   
said, "So what we know is that there is a connection between Darla and Diana   
Massey and probably even to David Griffin. And we also know that Riley and   
Simone Chambers know each other, we even," he gazed at Angel, then   
continued, "are able to assume they sleep with each other, whatever the   
reasons may be. Anything else?"  
  
"No," Angel replied. "But we do have a problem. I'm not quite sure if we can   
keep this up with only two detectives. There are simply too many suspects   
running around." He paused and looked at the other two men in the room, "How   
about two more to help us?"  
  
Giles straightened in his chair, "I'm not sure it's possible. I mean, who   
should we choose?" he gestured towards the outer office where the other   
detectives were busy writing reports, reading files or were absent because   
they were investigating a case. "They're all suspects."  
  
"He's right and you know it," Spike commented, looking at Angel. "But you're   
right too," he admitted. "It's just not possible to observe everyone with   
there being just the two of us. Maybe we should talk to the lovely Miss   
Chase about our little problem," he suggested with a grin. Cordelia Chase   
was some cocky woman for sure and he might've even looked twice if she   
wasn't already engaged and obviously very much in love. Also, if he hadn't   
already found his own object of admiration, he mused, his eyes drifting to   
Drusilla who was engaged in a conversation with Riley Finn. Damn the man,   
Spike thought, a sharp stab of jealousy surging through him.   
Not that he thought Drusilla would fall for the loser, but he deeply   
disliked the blond detective and the idea of his love interested being   
connected to him - in any way - was nothing he liked to see.  
  
"I already did," Angel, informed the other men, "We talked about the problem   
last night when I went to see her. She agreed that we can't do it on our own   
and promised to talk to her boss about it. She's going to call me as soon as   
she has news."  
  
"I see," Giles nodded thoughtfully. "I'm going to think about it too."  
  
"Thanks," Angel replied standing up. Spike did the same and turned towards   
the door when it suddenly opened and Willow entered, "Oh," she made a   
startled sound. She'd been deep in thoughts and not really looking.  
  
"Detective Osborne," Giles smiled at her, "is there anything I can do for   
you?" he asked, then turned to Angel and Spike again, "We're done for now?"  
  
"Yes, we are," Angel said, and then remembered something, "See you later at   
the Splash, Lieutenant."  
  
"The Splash?" Giles asked confused.  
  
"Yeah, you know. Because of the celebration."  
  
"The... what?" the older man still didn't get it, then he saw Willow   
gesturing wildly behind Angel's back, signing with her hands. "Oh, the   
celebration, of course," he exclaimed and saw the redhead exhaling a   
relieved breath. "Yes, see you then."  
  
Angel nodded, then turned, silently discussing if Giles was already old   
enough to start forgetting things easily.  
  
As soon as the door was closed, the Lieutenant raised an inquiring brow at   
Willow, "And now, Detective Osborne, I would really like to know what this   
was all about," he demanded.  
  
*****  
  
"Don't you think you've tortured us enough already?" the beautiful young   
woman sniffed, drying her eyes with a handkerchief of white silk. "We   
answered your questions again and again, Detective Summers." She directed   
her gaze at Xander and sent him a look pleading for help and understanding.  
  
He suppressed a grin and cleared his throat, "I know Miss Philips," he said,   
liking the bad-cop-good-cop-routine, especially when he was the good guy for   
a change, "how hard this is for you. Your mother was killed-"  
  
"She was murdered," Sarah Philips interrupted him, her voice so laced with   
pain that he was almost tempted to believe her. Almost. But he saw her   
shouting at her mother's husband, at her sisters and raging when her dead   
mother's attorney had announced the will that left almost the whole estate   
to her husband.  
  
"She certainly was," Xander said gently, "And that's the reason we have to   
do this. To find out who killed her."  
  
"What's there to find out?" she argued, her eyes suddenly clear and dry, her   
mother instantly forgotten, "We already know who killed her. The one who   
blinded her with passion, who made her believe that he loved her. We tried   
to open her eyes, but she wouldn't listen. And he killed her." The tears   
were back now.  
  
It wasn't the first case of this kind Buffy had seen. In L.A. younger   
husbands, who inherited wealth from older wives weren't that uncommon, what made   
this case so special was the fact that Aurelia Philips had three daughters from   
three different marriages. Aurelia Philips had been filthy rich, the money partly   
inherited from her father but also earned with her stunning career as a Hollywood   
actress. She'd been almost fifty but looked at least ten years younger.  
  
For Buffy it wasn't hard to see why Cameron Graham had been attracted to   
her. He was an actor as well and they'd met during a film shoot three years   
ago and the newspapers had announced the love affair of the century. They   
were obviously in love with each other if you could trust the pictures Buffy   
had studied since the day she and Xander had been called when Aurelia's body   
was found with a fatal stab-wound through her heart.  
  
Sure Cameron and Aurelia where top class actors and certainly able to fake   
their feelings for the cameras, but Buffy had met the widower and to her   
there was no doubt that he had been in love with his late wife. He'd always   
seemed so full of life in his films, but now there was just emptiness in his   
eyes and bone-deep grief. She could relate, she felt the same four years   
ago.  
  
"We know nothing of the kind," she said now, looking at Sarah Philips,   
"*You* assume it might have been your... Mr. Graham. But he swears he didn't   
do it and I'm tempted to believe him."  
  
"Of course you are," she snorted, her pretty face contorting in disgust.   
"They all do. They all fall for him, for his good looks, his blue eyes. My   
mother did too. She was a fool like all of them."  
  
"All of them?" Buffy raised a brow, "Does that include you, Miss Philips?"  
  
"You... you," she sprang on her feet, her eyes blazing, "you are...   
disgusting," she sputtered, her body trembling with rage. "To imply that I   
lusted after my mother' husband!"  
  
"I didn't imply anything," Buffy replied mildly, "I just, asked a question.   
You said all women are falling for him and I was interested if that included   
you. So," she said, crossing her arms, "Does it include you?"  
  
"No, of course not," Sarah Philips retorted, slowly calming down. "I never   
would've betrayed my mother. I never tried to steal her husband."  
  
"Implying you could," Buffy muttered, then said loudly, "That's not what I   
asked. I wanted to know if you were... interested in Cameron Graham."  
  
Sarah's eyes narrowed slightly, but this time she had her temper in check,   
"I won't deny that I thought him attractive. Hell, the world sees him as a   
sex symbol. I'm female - I'm not completely immune to his charms either. But   
I never tried anything."  
  
"We believe you," Xander said gently, smiling at her, satisfied when he saw   
her smiling back. She trusted him. A good sign. "But we still need to have   
answers to some questions. So would you give us five more minutes of your   
time?"  
  
"Alright," she replied, giving Buffy a nasty look, "I think five minutes   
won't hurt."  
  
*  
  
"God, what a bitch," Buffy said when they finally left the Philips estate   
half an hour later. "She certainly is an argument for birth control."  
  
Xander laughed and patted her shoulder, "Don't exaggerate. She isn't that   
bad."  
  
"Not that bad?" the blond stopped in her strides and stared at him as if   
he'd grown a second head, "She's worse, Xander. She lies, she tries to   
manipulate you, and she's a mother's nightmare. And on top of it she's   
spoiled rotten. She never learned how to lose. An explosive combination."  
  
"I still can't see her shoving a knife into her mother's chest in cold   
blood," he argued.  
  
"Well, maybe not in cold blood," Buffy replied and continued to walk towards   
their car. "But what if Mom told her little daughter about the changes in   
her will. I'm sure it would've caused hot blood."  
  
"We don't know that. You're just assuming things," Xander said.  
  
"And you let yourself impress by that huge-eyed tortured look."  
  
"No, I didn't," he grabbed her arm and forced her to look at him, "I know   
exactly what kind of woman she is, Buffy. I'm 34 years old, I have a wife   
and child at home, whom I love and I have more than ten years of experience   
as a cop. I'm not some fool who falls for a pretty face."  
  
She looked at him for a long moment, then sighed, "I know. I'm sorry,   
Xander. I didn't want to imply you... well, you know."  
  
"Yeah," he grinned. Starting to walk again, he asked, "The divorce getting   
to you, huh?"  
  
"That and... other things."  
  
"Those other things being tall, dark, and handsome?"  
  
She sighed again, Xander knew her far too well, "Yeah," she admitted. "God,   
it's so hard being near him again. I hurt him, Xander. I really hurt him   
four years ago. And I have no idea how to apologize, I'm not sure there *is*   
a way to apologize at all. Not after what I've done."  
  
They reached the car but Xander didn't climb in. He stood by his door, his   
arms propped on the roof, he looked at her, "There is always a way to say   
you're sorry, Buffy," he smiled slightly, "Just go and do it."  
  
"I wish it was that easy," she replied, her own smile incredibly sad.  
  
"Maybe it's easier than you think," he said. "Maybe you're in for a big   
surprise if you just jump in and try."  
  
  
... to be continued 


	5. Chapter 5

Unforgettable - Part 5  
By Jill  
  
Same day, 09:00 p.m.  
  
Angel cursed as he switched off the ignition and got out of his parked car.   
A celebration at the Splash, Willow had told him. They were holding a   
celebration tonight at the club and there was no way he could stay away.   
First he hadn't quite known what to think of it, but then Faith had said the   
same and so here he was. Tired, hungry and not feeling very communicative.   
Well, maybe he could just drink a glass of something and then quietly   
disappear.  
  
All he wanted was to slump down in front of the television and zone out   
for a while. He'd been following Riley all afternoon, all around Los   
Angeles. That really had been fun, while Spike had been off chasing Darla   
again and met again with her sister. Riley hadn't seen Simone this   
afternoon, but besides investigating in a case of a murdered bar-owner, he   
met an interesting bunch of people. Angel wasn't sure what it meant, but it   
was more than just slightly suspicious.  
  
Groaning, he realized he probably would see Riley soon. God, just what he   
needed tonight. He opened the door and looked around. To his surprise he   
didn't see the faces he'd expected. Yes, there were officers, some of them   
he even remembered but there was nobody... He froze when his eyes fell on a   
blond head. Buffy was sitting at a table, playing with the straw in her   
drink, looking into space.  
  
Of course Angel had known he'd see her tonight, but that had been assuming   
that all their colleagues'd surround them. On the other hand, they had   
already talked to each other, and they were working with each other. Besides   
he could still hear Cordelia's words that Buffy didn't blame him anymore. If   
it could be true... "Hi," he said, looking down at her.  
  
Her head jerked up, her eyes widened, and her voice sounded a bit breathless   
when she replied, "Hi."  
  
"Guess you're the first one here," he remarked.  
  
"Huh?" she asked confusion clearly visible on her features.  
  
"For the celebration," he clarified. "It seems you are the first."  
  
Instead of lessening her confusion intensified, "Celebration?"  
  
Angel's brows drew together, "You don't know about it? Willow said there was   
some sort of celebration tonight at... or was it... no," he nodded more to   
himself, "it was tonight. I'm sure of it."  
  
"I have no idea what you're talking about. What celebration?" Buffy asked,   
"What was there to celebrate?"  
  
He made a helpless gesture with one hand, "I have no idea. But Willow   
insisted I come. And Giles even-," he broke off, when it hit him. "They set   
us up," he exclaimed.  
  
"I beg your pardon?" Buffy raised her brows; she still wasn't able to   
understand what was going on.  
  
"Willow set us up," he repeated. "She told me to come here for some kind of   
celebration. What did she say to you?"  
  
The blond shook her head, "Nothing. As a matter of fact Willow didn't say...   
oh wait," she said suddenly, realization in her eyes, "Faith called me. This   
morning. She said she wanted to meet me. Reconcile and stuff." She slammed   
her palm against the table, "I should've known it. Faith was never a morning   
person and all of a sudden she calls me at seven in the morning. Oh, this   
traitorous bitch, this lying-"  
  
"I'm sure she meant well," he interrupted her raging.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I'm sure they meant well. Maybe it was their way of trying to get us   
together," he said. Did she have any idea how beautiful she looked, her eyes   
blazing with anger, he wondered.  
  
His words hadn't the effect he'd hoped, instead of smiling, she seemed to   
get even more angry, "Well, huh?" she spat and Angel winced at the sound of   
her voice. Maybe angry wasn't quite the right word. Too soft. "I'll give   
them well," she stood and combed a hand through her hair, "They have no idea   
what they're doing. They don't know what we need. They have no right," she   
paused for a moment, obviously suddenly realizing her tone. She sighed and   
held out her hands, palms up, "I mean, what are they hoping to accomplish,   
I'm asking you."  
  
"I don't know," he replied quietly, "Maybe they just want us to talk?"  
  
"Talk?" she spat the word as if it was something completely foreign to her,   
"What should we talk about? I'm sure you aren't even interested in talking   
to me."  
  
"Whoa," he exclaimed, holding his hands up. "I never said that."  
  
Her brows drew together in confusion as she stared at him. "So you would?"   
she asked, her voice back to normal, but holding a trace of surprise. "Talk   
to me, I mean?"  
  
"Well," he shrugged, and then looked pointedly at the table. Why did she   
think he didn't want to talk to her? Was it because of his visit to her   
apartment the other day? He already regretted ever having gone there. That   
morning it had seemed the wisest idea to clear the air between them and   
allow them to work together. In the face of Cordelia's words about Buffy's   
feelings towards him he wasn't so sure anymore.  
  
She followed the direction of his eyes and instantly understood, "Oh, well,   
if you want to sit down," she invited, nervously wiping her hands at her   
trousers. "After all I came to talk to someone who'd once been my friend. To   
make things better. Now it seems I'm still going to do that, just that it's   
you and not Faith. So... do you... want to sit down?"  
  
"I'd like that," he replied softly, giving her one of his half-smiles. "I'd   
like that very much." Molly, the waitress, appeared and took his order, then   
left again. Angel frowned not quite sure how to begin and caught her chewing   
at her lower lip, her hands hidden under the table, but from the movements   
of her arms he could guess she was nervously playing with them. She was   
staring at her glass of white wine, avoiding his eyes and he wondered what   
she expected him to do.  
  
"Nothing, I expect nothing," she said quietly, still not looking at him.  
  
A little bit embarrassed Angel realized that he'd thought aloud. His smile   
was sad when he said, "No, I suppose you wouldn't."  
  
She made a little sound of protest and shook her head, one of her hands   
playing with her straw now, "No that's not... I mean, I didn't mean that. I   
mean," she let out an exasperated breath clearly annoyed with herself and   
finally raised her head to look at him, "I'm sorry. That came out wrong. I   
didn't mean to imply that there was nothing to be expected of you. I just   
wanted to say that after... after," she shrugged, remembering Xander's words   
from just before, "well, after what I did to you, I wouldn't be surprised if   
you'd like to pretend I didn't exist at all."  
  
"That," he replied, nodding at the waitress who brought his drink, "would be   
absolutely impossible. First of all you're sitting right in front of me and   
then," he paused to sip from his glass, "it would be hard to overlook   
someone as beautiful as you are."  
  
Buffy felt a wild flutter in her heart at that and blushed instantly, "Oh,"   
she made, not sure how to react. "You... you think I'm beautiful?" Oh great,   
Buffy, now he thinks you're completely shallow and just fishing for   
compliments.  
  
"I always thought that and you know it," he said, the sadness gone from his   
smile. "You were always the most beautiful woman in the world to me."  
  
Her blush deepened and the flutter increased to a frantic beating. If he   
didn't stop she would soon embarrass herself. "Well... uh... thanks," she   
smiled, and then again bit her lower lip. "You look... good too. More...   
uh... mature."  
  
He grimaced at that, "Older, you mean?"  
  
"No," she protested, "I mean, of course you are older-"  
  
"Thanks," he joked.  
  
"But so am I," she continued, ignoring his interruption. "I'm thirty after   
all."  
  
"Who would've guessed?" he winked at her, "You look barely older than 20."   
He was shocked that she didn't laugh at that but that suddenly tears welled   
up in her eyes and she was blinking rapidly. "Hey," he said softly, wanting   
to reach out and touch her hand, but not daring to. "What is it?"  
  
"You..." she sniffed, "are flirting with me."  
  
His smile widened, "Yeah, and?"  
  
"You are... How can you flirt with me after... after what I've done to you?"   
she asked, covering her quivering mouth with one hand. "After all the   
horrible things I said, after... after... and then I went and married Riley?"  
  
The smile instantly vanished from his face, "Buffy, about Riley-"  
  
"No," she held up a hand, "You don't have to tell me. I'll..." she took a   
deep breath, "I will never forgive myself for behaving like I did that   
afternoon at my wedding, when you came and... God, I was such a bitch."  
  
"Buffy, you were hurt. You just lost your brother. You thought..." his voice   
faltered slightly, but he had it under control in an instant, "You thought I   
killed him. What you did... It's not difficult to understand."  
  
"So you... you..." she was a loss for words.  
  
"I, what?" he asked, reaching out tentatively and covering her trembling   
hand with his. "What?" he urged.  
  
"But you came, to my apartment and you said... that you didn't care anymore   
what happened four years ago. That whatever happened between us was... you   
were so cool, so distant," she wiped her eyes with her free hand, glad that   
they were sitting in a dark corner of the club where nobody else could see   
her tears.  
  
"Buffy, I thought you still held me responsible for Mike's death," he tried   
to explain. "I thought-"  
  
"NO," her outcry was so shocked that some other guests turned to look into   
their direction. She lowered her voice, but Angel felt her hand turning and   
gripping his. A bolt of electricity shot through him at that, and warmth   
settled in his soul that had been missing for four long years, "No, I don't.   
I never did. Not really. I just wasn't quite myself after it happened and   
I... When I finally woke up I found myself married to Riley."  
  
"I know," he replied squeezing her hand gently, "Cordelia told me. It was...   
a shock for me to hear that, I'll admit. All those years I thought you still   
thought I was responsible despite my words, despite Faith and Drusilla."  
  
"Oh, Angel," she blinked more tears away, "I'm so sorry. If I could-"  
  
"But we can't," he interrupted her. "We can't turn back time and change   
things."  
  
"I know," she whispered sadly. Of course she'd known it all along. It was   
too late. But that stupid little part had still hoped...  
  
"We can only move forward," he went on, not letting go of her hand. He   
looked at her, saw her beautiful hazel eyes, her shimmering hair, remembered   
all the laughter and love they'd shared and then thought about the emptiness   
in his life and the feelings he'd tried to ignore. "And we could do it   
together if you want," then suddenly realizing what he'd said, he tried to   
amend, "Of course we don't have to rush, we could be friends to start, could   
go to see a movie, drink a cup of coffee-"  
  
"Yes," she said, interrupting him, her eyes resting on him with an   
expression that looked like a mixture between hope and fear. More softly she   
added, "Yes, I'd like that." God, maybe Xander was right, maybe sorry wasn't   
so difficult after all. "And you can really forget what I said to you?"  
  
"Forget?" he shook his head, "hardly. I'll never forget what happened. But   
forgive? Yes. That I can do. Actually I already did that. As soon as I   
realized it wasn't really you who said the words. But of course it was too   
late. Cordelia said I should've fought harder, and maybe she's right."  
  
Buffy was about to reply when Molly appeared again to bring Angel's steak   
and Buffy's french-fries. They ate in silence, exchanging smiles from time   
to time, the blonde's eyes shining with something he'd missed before. They   
were still sad, but there was also life in them, and hope. Silently he   
thanked Faith and Willow for their meddling. This evening was the   
break-through, Angel was sure of that. Of course they had still a long way   
to go, but they had made peace after all.  
  
He had no idea how Buffy felt about him. Sure, there was guilt, and she   
seemed genuinely glad that he didn't blame her for the words she'd said. The   
way she'd acted, but that didn't mean that she still had feelings for him,   
that she was interested in a relationship. After all she just ended her   
marriage and was probably not even looking for another man in her life. A   
picture of Riley flickered through his mind but Angel quickly pushed it   
away. No, he decided firmly, Riley wouldn't spoil this evening.  
  
"You look so serious," she said, pulling him from his thoughts. "I can tell,   
because when you're brooding a sharp line appears between your brows. It's   
even more visible now that you've grown older," she said pointing to his   
forehead.  
  
"Oh, thanks," he replied sarcastically, but a smile was playing around his   
mouth. He felt lightheaded all of a sudden. They were sitting together,   
eating, and talking together, God, they were even laughing together. After   
all the time they'd spent apart, after all that heartache it was almost   
unreal.  
  
"Why did you come back to L.A.?" she asked suddenly.  
  
"What?" the question had caught him off guard. He knew he couldn't tell her   
about Internal Affairs and hated that he had to keep a secret from her,   
especially now when there seemed a chance for something he'd already given   
up hoping. "Oh, L.A. Well, homesick I guess," he said, glad that it wasn't a   
complete lie. He had liked living in New York, but there hadn't been one day   
when he hadn't missed L.A. or more specifically, Buffy. Maybe he would tell   
her that one day, but for the moment he kept it to himself.  
  
"Uh-huh. I can understand that, I would miss L.A. if I had to move away,"   
she smiled slightly, then nodded at his plate, "You ready?"  
  
"What? Yes, yes, I'm ready. It's good food." He laughed suddenly, and when   
he saw her curious gaze, he explained, "I just realized I haven't been to   
Cara since I came back."  
  
"You haven't?" she couldn't believe it, "I wouldn't be able to exist without   
her. Willow and I meet there at least once a week for lunch. It's like a   
tradition. Just last week we were talking that L.A. wouldn't be the same if   
Cara wasn't there anymore."  
  
"How is she?" Angel asked affectionately. He had always liked the owner of   
Kinks and Drinks, and he remembered a special evening, when she'd sat with   
him, listened to his grief and hurt, maybe prevented him from doing   
something stupid.  
  
"Fine," Buffy replied grinning. It lit up her whole face and want slammed   
into Angel's gut with a force that made him suddenly breathless. "You know   
Cara. Nothing can stop her. She's still in love with her lump of a husband   
and he simply adores her. Her clothes are still 'kinky' she insists and we   
all love her."  
  
They laughed together at that and the blond felt like flying at the feeling   
that began to spread through her whole being. It had been so cold those last   
four years without him and now the warmth was coming back. He didn't blame   
her anymore, she could hardly believe it, and he was laughing with her, had   
held her hand. She felt like climbing the highest mountain and   
shouting it to the world.  
  
"Shall we go?" he asked after a moment, checking his watch, to   
his surprise it was already 11.00 p.m.  
  
"Sure," she agreed, trying to protest when he placed several bills on the   
table, but he just shook his head and so she gave him a thankful nod.  
  
Leaving the club the night-air was a welcome change from the sticking   
atmosphere inside. "Where did you park your car?" Angel asked, looking   
around.  
  
"Just over there," she pointed at a small Toyota Riley had given her three   
months after their wedding. "The green one." She'd thought about getting rid of   
it, but there wasn't enough money at the moment to replace it. So she swallowed   
her pride and was still using Riley's gift.  
  
"Let me walk you," he offered and then started towards it without waiting   
for her answer. She smiled and followed, enjoying being near him like this.   
Please, please let this work, she prayed to whatever god was listening.  
  
They reached the driver's side of the car and she turned to say goodbye,   
when his large body suddenly held her prisoner between him and the car.   
"Angel," she said startled because of the unexpected closeness. Her heart   
beat a mile a minute, feeling him so close to her, her breath caught in her   
throat and it was as if armies of ants were running through her gut.  
  
"Do you know that when I returned to L.A. I vowed that I wouldn't fall for   
you again?" he whispered, leaning closer. "I thought I could do it," he   
chuckled slightly, "I actually thought I could stay away from you. But I   
should've known."  
  
"What?" she whispered back, mesmerized by the intense expression in his   
eyes, the burning passion, they were usually brown but now they seemed   
almost black.  
  
"That I couldn't resist you," he replied, his breath fluttering over her   
lips.  
  
When his lips finally touched hers, she felt the shock all the way to her   
toes. The ripples of pleasure were so intense, that she moaned involuntarily   
against his mouth.  
  
Angel's hands slid into her hair, combing through it, marveling in the   
feeling of pure silk running through his fingers. She was so soft, so warm,   
so perfectly suited to him. For years he had dreamed of this, of kissing her   
again, of her kissing him back, and finally his dream was becoming reality.  
  
With gentle force he urged her lips apart, his tongue slipped between them,   
and she reflexively opened her mouth to it. It had been so long, but it felt   
so natural, so right. Buffy raised her hands to encircle his neck, to pull   
him even closer to her, then gave in to the hunger, taking all she could   
get, afraid he would stop, afraid she would maybe never feel like that   
again, so whole, so complete. She needed more, needed-  
  
Involuntarily she made a strangled, helpless sound, overwhelmed by the   
feelings that were consuming her and Angel, understanding it wrong, ended the   
kiss and stepped back. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice shaken, his   
hands in her hair trembling. "I... I didn't mean...."  
  
"No," she raised her hands and covered his that were now cupping her cheeks.   
"It's okay. I wanted it too."  
  
Slowly pulling his hands back, he cleared his throat, "Maybe you should go   
home now," he suggested, shaken to the core by the intensity of his   
feelings. Had he actually believed he could live without her?  
  
"Yes," she whispered, opening the door behind her back. "See you tomorrow,"   
she breathed, reaching out she touched his arm a moment.  
  
He startled her when he put her hand in his and pulled it to his mouth,   
kissing it softly. "Yeah," he agreed, letting go of her hand again,   
"Tomorrow."  
  
With a last smile she slid into her car, started the ignition and drove   
away.  
  
*****  
  
same day, 11.30 p.m.  
  
With a happy smile on her face Buffy unlocked the door to her apartment,   
closed it afterwards and with a sigh leaned against it. She closed her eyes   
and could still feel Angel's lips, the taste of him, the way his breath   
had tickled her skin, and his hands running through her hair, massaging her   
skull.  
  
She couldn't remember when she'd ever had felt so good before. No, that   
wasn't true, she remembered, but after four empty years she suddenly felt   
filled with warmth, with love, with hope and she thought she would burst   
from all the feelings tumbling inside of her. She'd been so depressed and   
utterly hopeless and now... Everything suddenly seemed possible again. All   
the things she'd thought were lost were again within her reach. And the   
feeling was so wonderful, that she began to hum a love song when she pushed   
herself away from the door and made her way towards the living room.  
  
Still humming she switched the light on, turned and froze. The song died on   
her lips and the keys she'd been holding fell to the floor, sounding   
incredibly loud in the sudden silence.  
  
After a moment she managed to make her voice work, but it still croaked when   
she said, "Wha..." she had to clear her throat first, "What are you doing   
here?" she asked.  
  
"I lived here for three and a half years," Riley replied shifting slightly   
on the seat he was occupying. He had pulled his legs underneath him and was   
watching her, then slowly held out his hand where a set of keys was dangling   
from his index finger. "And I still have the key," he added unnecessarily.  
  
"So I see," she replied coolly, glad that she'd been able to regain her   
composure so quickly. "But you still haven't answered my question," she went   
on, throwing her jacket over the sofa, "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Visiting my wife," he said, smirking at her.  
  
Her only retort was the rising of one brow, "She isn't here," she said after   
a moment.  
  
"Oh, but she is," he insisted, watching her walking to the bar and pouring   
herself a glass of soda. "And she looks very beautiful tonight."  
  
Buffy closed her eyes for a moment, glad that he couldn't see her face, then   
pulling herself together she turned back to him, "Riley, please. Just leave.   
I have no idea what's going on in your head tonight, but I'm tired."  
  
"Come on," he said and put his keys on the table, "Tomorrow is Saturday. You   
can sleep in. Don't you have ten minutes for your loving husband?"  
  
"Riley," she sighed heavily and shook her head. "What's wrong with you?"  
  
"What's wrong with me?" he echoed. His expression changed that moment, gone   
was the smirk, the lightness of his voice, and it was replaced by anger,   
even hatred, "Well, maybe I thought I at least deserve the same treatment as   
your lover," he spat the last word, as if its taste was poisoning his mouth.  
  
"My what?" Buffy asked honestly surprised by his accusation.  
  
"Your lover," he repeated. "Is he good?" he asked, finally standing up,   
"Does he satisfy you?"  
  
"Excuse me?" she crossed her arms in front of her chest, but her eyes never   
wavered. "*What* are you talking about?"  
  
"What am I talking about? Well, I'll tell you what I'm talking about. I'm   
talking about the fact that I saw you, in front of the Splash, your lips   
locked with Angel's."  
  
Too stunned by his words, by the fact that he'd obviously been watching   
them, she couldn't find the words this would have demanded. She could only   
stare at him.  
  
"What?" he taunted, "no excuses?" he asked, stepping closer, "I already told   
you, you were a whore, Buffy, and you are, you certainly are."  
  
Finding her voice again, she hissed, "Get out, get the hell out of my   
apartment."  
  
"Oh, no, my lovely wife," he replied, coming even closer, his whole   
body language openly threatening, "And that's what you are. My wife. My oh   
so loving, adulteress, cheating wife," he said, emphasizing each insult by   
punching his right fist into his left palm.  
  
Oh no, she would not be frightened by his aggressive posture, she would not   
back away and beg him to leave her alone. She suppressed the fear rising in   
her in remembering the way he'd beaten her before he'd left the apartment,   
what she'd thought had been for good. "Only for another three weeks," she   
said, glad her voice was sounding cool and controlled, "After that a judge   
will end what shouldn't have begun and then you can go to hell for all I   
care."  
  
The moment the words left her mouth she knew it had been the wrong thing to   
say. In a flash he was right in front of her, his arms coming to encase her   
between the bar and his body. Angel had done almost the same thing only   
minutes ago, but it had been with care, his eyes passionate while Riley's   
were blazing with rage, his hands gripping the edge of the counter so tight   
that his knuckles went white.  
  
Now being so near to him, Buffy could smell the alcohol in his breath, saw   
the heightened color in his cheeks, partly from anger, but partly caused by   
too much whiskey, his favorite drink these days. Hoping that he wouldn't   
realize that her hands were shaking, she looked straight in his eyes   
that, as she knew now, were not completely sober "Get out," she demanded.  
  
He laughed at that, a sound that made the hairs in her neck stand up   
straight and fear sent shivers down her spine. "Oh no," he replied, "First I   
want to have what you so willingly gave to him," he said and without warning   
his mouth took possession of hers, with bruising strength he forced her lips   
apart, making her nauseous with the smell of his breath, his tongue invading   
her deep, while his hands and arms were pressing her close, holding her so   
tight that she had no chance to push him away.  
  
The fear was dominant now, with images of raped women springing to her mind,   
beaten wives, crying in her arms, with empty, hopeless eyes, abused by their   
boyfriends or husbands, treated as if they were objects, not human beings.   
God, please no, she prayed silently. No, please don't let him do this. And   
suddenly there was Angel's face, smiling at her, laughing, she thought about   
his lips on hers. And rage suddenly pushed the fear away, rage that she was   
letting Riley do this to her, that she allowed him to taint this evening   
that held so much hope.  
  
With all her strength she managed to get her hands between their bodies and   
pushed his much larger and heavier body away. Maybe because he wasn't   
expecting it or maybe because of the alcohol he stumbled back a step, "NO,"   
she shouted. "Get away from me," she said, wiping her mouth, hoping against   
hope to wipe him away, his taste, the feeling of his invasion, "Get out of   
my apartment."  
  
"Oh, come on," he had the guts to grin, "you liked it, admit it. I'm sure he   
didn't kiss you that way."  
  
"No, he didn't. I enjoyed kissing him," she shouted, trembling with rage and   
fear, hating Riley in a way she'd never hated him before. "How can you dare   
to force yourself on me?"  
  
"Because you vowed that you'd worship me with your body," he declared,   
imitating the priest's voice. "God, you were lying like the best of them. We   
might be divorced in three weeks, but by God today you will be my wife."  
  
Without another warning he grabbed her. She hadn't expected him to move so   
quickly with all the booze in his blood, but obviously she'd been wrong.   
Ignoring her outcry he pushed her to the ground and was over her the next   
second, pulling at her clothes, his ragged breathing in her ears, she could   
feel the evidence of what he was planning to do to her pressed against her   
thigh.  
  
He's going to rape me, Buffy thought desperately, oh God he's actually going   
to rape me. The rage gone again, the fear was back. And he could see it, she   
thought, he could see it in her eyes, and he was laughing at her fear,   
enjoying the feeling of power and control. What had she been told at the   
Police Academy? Rape is no sex crime it's about showing power. And they were   
right, she thought, while Riley was busy ripping her blouse into shreds,   
grabbing her bra and ripped it apart, then roughly and a bit clumsily   
fondled her breasts.  
  
And maybe the acceptance of what was going to happen to her made her system   
shut down. It was as if her mind and body were suddenly two different   
things, as if her mind didn't belong to this body anymore. She went slack   
under his hands, didn't even realize that he was trying to pull down his   
zipper, while his other hand was pushing up her skirt.  
  
Suddenly he let go of it, and his hands came to frame her head, she saw his   
lips move, saw him saying something, maybe even shouting, he was shaking her   
shoulders, but it was as if she was watching the whole scene, not being   
actually a part of it. And then he was gone. The weight lifted from her   
body, but she didn't care, didn't really notice it. She thought she heard   
the door slam, but she was just lying there, staring at the light on the   
ceiling, her eyes unfocussed, her body beginning to shiver.  
  
****  
  
Angel entered his apartment about ten minutes after Buffy had reached hers,   
but what he found in his living room was unlike the one the blond had found   
in hers. Switching on the light, he froze as well, but for completely   
different reasons. The two people on the sofa jerked away from each other,   
and while Drusilla blushed deeply, Spike only glared at him, "Bloody hell,   
can't you knock before you rush in like some attack commando?"  
  
The dark-haired man chuckled slightly and raised a brow, "That's hardly the   
way to describe my entrance. Besides this is my apartment and why didn't you   
go to your own room?" he asked, pointedly nodding towards the door in the   
right corner. "Hi, Drusilla," he finally acknowledged her woman's presence.  
  
Her blush deepening, she quickly glanced at him, and then in the same manner   
looked back, staring at her hands. "Hi, Angel."  
  
Spike clicked his tongue and tilted his head, "And may I ask where you came   
from at this late hour?"  
  
"You may not," his friend shot back. "It's certainly none of your business."   
Giving Spike a last look, he smiled apologetically at Drusilla, "I'm sorry   
about this, I didn't mean to interrupt you. And don't feel uncomfortable,   
you're always welcome here."  
  
"It's a bit awkward," she admitted shyly, "I've known you for so long, it's   
almost as if my big brother was finding me making out with my boyfriend."  
  
Angel grinned, "Hardly. You won't hear any threats from me and I'm also not   
going to hit Spike."  
  
The blond snorted, "As if you could."  
  
His friend looked pointedly at his still highly colored cheek, but didn't   
comment. "Well, just ignore I came in," he said after a moment. "I'm tired   
and I need to sleep for-"  
  
He couldn't finish his sentence when suddenly the phone rang. Exchanging a   
curious glance with Spike, he picked up the phone, "Hello?"  
  
"A-Angel."  
  
The voice was so small, so distant that he had problems to hear it at all   
and so he asked, "Hello? It's Angel here, who's there?" He could see Spike   
standing up and coming towards him, gesturing if the call was for him. The   
dark-haired man shook his head and strained to understand, startled when he   
heard a sob coming through the line. "Hello!" he called, suddenly alarmed.  
  
"A-Angel."  
  
This time the voice was clear and Angel could feel his heart dropping right   
through the bottom, "Buffy," he shouted through the phone, holding it in a   
crushing grip. From the corner of his eye he saw Drusilla getting up as   
well, alarm in her eyes. She put a hand on Spike's arm, and he looked at her   
shaking his head. "Buffy, talk to me. What's going on?"  
  
"A-A-Angel," she managed to croak again, "Please," another sob tore from her   
throat, "help."  
  
"Buffy!" he shouted, "Baby, are you hurt? Buffy! BUFFY!" Angel turned his   
head, looked at Spike with wild, fearful eyes, then tried again to talk to   
her, "Buffy," he asked again, gently this time, guessing she might be   
frightened or hurt. "Baby, talk to me."  
  
"Please come," she whispered, then the phone fell from her hand.  
  
*  
  
Angel couldn't remember ever having felt so helpless before. While Spike was   
busy breaking every speed limit that existed, Drusilla put a comforting hand   
on his shoulder. He was ready to scream. Buffy hadn't responded anymore   
after her last plead for him to come. He'd shouted, cried, whispered and   
begged, but she hadn't talked to him again.  
  
Without thinking again, he'd grabbed his keys and headed for his car. Spike   
and Drusilla caught up with him after a moment, the blond insisting that Angel   
wasn't in any condition to drive a car.  
  
And Angel was glad. He hadn't even realized that his whole body was   
trembling before he'd felt Drusilla fastening the seat belt for him. His   
mouth was dry, his heart was pounding in his ears and the most horrible   
images were running through his head. God, what had happened to her? She'd   
sounded so weak. It wasn't like Buffy to ask for help. The mere fact that   
she'd called him was turning his gut into knots.  
  
God, let her be all right, he found himself praying. Please, let her be all   
right.  
  
*  
  
She didn't answer the door and frankly Angel hadn't expected her to. So   
exchanging a short glance with Spike the two men threw themselves at the   
door and it gave way without much resistance. "Buffy," Angel shouted,   
storming into her apartment, ignoring everything he'd ever learned about   
entering an apartment where he didn't know what he to expect, but panic was   
pounding through his body, pushing him forward. While Spike and Drusilla   
were checking the kitchen and the bedrooms, Angel went straight towards the   
living room and was about to switch on the light, when her voice stopped   
him.  
  
"No, don't," she pleaded.  
  
"Buffy," he said gently, stepping inside, trying to see something despite of   
the darkness. Then slowly as his eyes became accustomed to the lack of   
light, he could see her sitting on the ground, her back leaning against a   
chair, she was trying to cover her upper body with... His blood froze in his   
veins. "Buffy," he said, kneeling down in front of her, his breath coming in   
gasps, "Buffy," he repeated her name, not able to take in what his mind was   
telling him.  
  
Her lips looked swollen, there was a bruise on her cheek, her skirt was torn,   
the shirt too, and she was desperately clutching it against her bare   
breasts. And if that hadn't been enough he could make out the silhouettes of   
her torn bra and panties lying on the ground. "Oh, God, Buffy," his voice   
cracked in his throat, he had no idea if he should touch her at the moment   
or not. He sensed movement at the door, and without turning said, "Spike,   
call the cops."  
  
The blond was already pulling his phone from his pocket, when Buffy's voice   
shouted hoarsely, "No."  
  
"Baby," Angel said gently, tentatively reaching out and putting a hand on   
her upraised knee, "You need to report it to the police. You have to report   
the person who..." his voice broke again, then with difficulty he continued,   
"did this to you, who... raped you... has to be punished." He heard   
Drusilla's and Spike's shocked gasps from the door but didn't care.  
  
"He didn't rape me," Buffy whispered, slowly covering Angel's hand with   
hers.  
  
"The hell he didn't," he bit out.  
  
"No, he didn't," she insisted softly. "He tried. But he didn't finish.   
Angel," she inhaled sharply, "he... he was watching us," she said.  
  
"Watching us?" he asked, not understanding, "Who was watching us?"  
  
Now she couldn't hold back the sob anymore. Without thinking twice, Angel   
pulled her close and cradled her in his arms, holding her, stroking her,   
soothing her with words of nonsense, much the same way he'd done in the   
bathroom a few days ago.  
  
"We're going to make some coffee," Drusilla announced and pulled Spike with   
her to give the couple some privacy.  
  
The moment they were gone, Angel gently kissed Buffy's temple and asked   
again, "Who?"  
  
"It was Riley." She felt his body stiffen, and heard the sharp intake of   
breath. "He was here when I came home. I forgot he still had a key. He never   
used it since he left and so," she shrugged. "He was drunk and angry. He'd   
obviously seen us in front of the Splash. He lost control and I was sure he   
was going to rape me."  
  
She felt him tighten his hold on her, felt the shudders that were running   
through his body, "And then, when I thought it was going to happen, he let   
go of me. I... I don't know why, but he was gone."  
  
"I really want to kill him," Angel admitted after a long silence.  
  
"I know," she replied, snuggling into the healing warmth of his body. It was   
so good to be close to him. She needed him and trusted him completely.   
Nothing could've told him this more clearly. In a moment of utter   
vulnerability she had called him. Not Willow. Not Cordelia. Although they   
were women, she had called him and despite the horror he felt also humbled   
by her trust.  
  
"I'm staying," he announced. "And I still think you should report him."  
  
"I know," she said again, "but it won't change anything. I hate him," she   
told him, "don't get me wrong. I really do. I despise him, he is disgusting.   
But it would cost him his job and I'm not sure it would make him a   
better person. He isn't really a violent person." When she heard his sound   
of protest, she put her fingers over his mouth, "He hit me, once. And   
today... I don't know, he lost control. But he got it back. He didn't go   
through with it. I have no idea why, but I want to believe it's because he   
realized what he was doing was wrong. I was married to him for four years. I   
don't want to think of him as a rapist."  
  
Angel considered her words, weighted them against his urge to have Riley   
punished for what he'd done to her, "Okay," he finally gave in. "But I'm   
staying."  
  
"Yes," she replied. "Just hold me, Angel. Hold me," she whispered and then   
the tears finally fell.  
  
*****  
  
Saturday, August 26th, 4.00 p.m., Los Angeles  
  
Angel entered Buffy's kitchen to start the percolator. If Buffy was still   
the same, and he couldn't believe that she would ever change her obsession   
for strong, black coffee in the morning, she would need a mug of the brew. Okay,   
so it wasn't exactly morning anymore, but who cared.  
  
When the coffee machine began to hum, Angel opened the fridge in search for   
some food and found cheese, eggs, onions and milk, all he needed for a nice   
omelet. She would surely need it as soon as she got out of the shower.  
  
He held her for a long time, just held her while she was crying in his arms,   
not only for what had happened to her last night, though by God that was   
reason enough, but also for four lost years, for a dead brother,   
misjudgment. It just poured out of her, a cleansing sort of tears, healing,   
but nevertheless painful to watch. Dru and Spike had left quietly to give   
the couple the privacy they needed.  
  
It was after sunrise when Buffy had finally fallen asleep and he'd gently   
scooped her up and carried her to her bed, peeling her torn clothing from   
her bruised body. Even now tears welled up in Angel's eyes when he thought   
about the marks on her breasts, the bruises violent fingers had left on her   
inner thighs. Riley might not have gone through with what he'd attempted,   
but Angel still felt like finding him and beating him until the last bone in   
his miserable body was broken.  
  
Taking a deep, steadying breath, he ran a shaky hand through his hair and   
busied himself with the omelet, cutting the onions and cracking eggs. He   
wasn't a gourmet cook, but he could at least manage not to starve and his   
omelets weren't that bad. Beating eggs in with milk, he didn't hear the   
silent footsteps approaching the kitchen, and almost jumped out of his skin,   
when he heard a soft "Hi," from the door.  
  
"Buffy," he turned to her and put a hand on his chest, "God, you startled   
me."  
  
"Sorry," she gave him a smile, but it wasn't really apologetic, "Hmmm. That   
smells nice," she commented, and then settled herself on a chair, watching   
him preparing breakfast. She'd showered and washed her hair, now securely   
hidden under a fluffy towel while her body was covered in an equally fluffy   
robe. She looked so sexy, that Angel sucked in a sharp breath, desperately   
hoping she wouldn't realize what she was doing to him. He was glad he was   
wearing loose slacks. After what she'd been through she certainly wouldn't   
care for the fact that he was completely aroused.  
  
"Coffee'll be ready in a minute," he announced without turning, "I suppose you   
still drink it black?"  
  
"Our tastes are still the same," she replied, smiling slightly, "I seem to   
have conked out," she remarked, still a bit nervous remembering the fact   
that she had found herself naked in her bed, without any memory how she'd   
gotten there. "Did you sleep at all?" she asked.  
  
"A little," he said and poured his mix into a pan. "I'm okay. Don't worry   
about falling asleep." He stirred the egg-mix, and then turned to her. "You   
were entitled to sleep." Tentatively he stepped closer and crouched down in   
front of her, concern in his eyes and voice, "How do you feel?"  
  
"Better," she retorted, "Clean." She suddenly shrugged self-consciously,   
then looked down at her hands, "I suppose you saw the bruises he... left."  
  
"Yes," he confirmed, reached out, and covered her tightly entwined hands,   
massaging her white knuckles, then pulled them towards him and kissed them   
softly. Her head came up with a jerk and their eyes met, "There is nothing   
to be ashamed of," he told her gently, "Absolutely nothing."  
  
"I know," she said, exhaling a shaky breath, "Intellectually I know that. I   
thought about everything I learned about rape and attempted rape. I know   
that he had a need to show his power, but... but I feel so violated, Angel.   
He came into my home, a home we shared while we were married and... And I   
know I didn't love him, but that doesn't mean there weren't happy times. We   
laughed, Angel. We joked, we," she looked at the stove, "we even made   
breakfast together, and now he's tainted everything."  
  
"Buffy-"  
  
"No, please, let me. I need to tell you."  
  
"Okay," he said softly, kissing her hands again. "Go on."  
  
She took another shaky breath, "The night we split up, we had an argument   
and he went berserk. He hit me, but that was nothing compared to what he did   
yesterday. I know we didn't get along, he behaved horribly and I could be a   
bitch too, but I still had some hope we might find a way to at least   
tolerate each other, as colleagues - some day," she suddenly had to laugh. It   
wasn't a happy sound, "But now, I hate him, Angel. I really hate him."  
  
"I hate him too," he replied, shifting a little bit on his feet, "You're   
sure about not reporting him?"  
  
"Yeah," she nodded. "As much as I despise him, I can't do it. I don't know   
why, I can't really explain, but I can't do it."  
  
When the fresh smell of the cooked omelet reached his nose, Angel got up to   
turn their breakfast over in the pan then came back, "I understand," he   
said. He wasn't quite sure when he'd made the decision to do what he was   
about to do. Maybe it had been tonight when she'd cried in his arms or later   
when he'd watched her sleeping, but he'd made up his mind. There would be no   
more secrets between them. He wouldn't risk their fragile relationship by   
keeping something from her.  
  
Still looking into her questioning gaze, he went on, "Yesterday you asked me   
why I came back to L.A. and I told you it was because I was homesick. But   
that was just part of the reason."  
  
"Just part of?" she asked confused. "What do you mean?"  
  
"Two weeks ago, Internal Affairs approached us. Obviously convinced that   
there's a dirty cop in our precinct." He saw her eyes widen, heard her gasp,   
and nodded, "Yeah. I know. Pretty bad stuff. They wanted me because I've   
already been there, and I knew all the officers and the fact that Spike,   
whom nobody knew, was my partner was a big plus."  
  
"A dirty cop," she said incredulously, "Oh God. Do you... do you know who?"  
  
"We don't have the slightest idea. According to the DA everyone's a   
suspect," he told her, got up to pour two mugs of coffee and to prepare two   
plates with the omelet. He placed both in front of her place and his, and   
then sat down.  
  
"The DA?" she asked, "Does that mean-"  
  
"Yeah, Cordelia is involved. Quite intensely actually. She is my regular   
contact. Doyle knows too, Internal Affairs of course and... Giles."  
  
"I see," she nodded, tasting his cooking. "That's good," she commented   
almost absentmindedly. "You said we're all suspects," she said after a   
moment. "Yet you told me."  
  
He stopped his fork in mid-air, put it down, reached over the table and took   
her hand, "I don't want any more secrets between us. I have the feeling   
that... that we have a chance here. I have no idea what's going to happen   
between us, but a secret can be a bad thing. It could kill something before   
it has a chance to... blossom."  
  
She had to swallow the lump in her throat before she could reply, "I feel   
honored, by your trust. Is it intentional or validated by facts?"  
  
"Pure intention," he said with a smile playing on his lips. "But I trust my   
feelings. You were never really on my list," he told her and let go of her   
hand. "But what I meant with understanding you, there's a possibility that Riley   
could be the one we're looking for and although I hate him, although he hurt me,   
I remember all the good times we had together and find myself hoping it isn't   
him."  
  
She grimaced slightly at his words, then picked up another piece of food, "I   
wonder if Cordelia would agree with you," she mused.  
  
He grinned at that, "I doubt it. She's pretty tough. I'm really surprised   
that her relationship with Doyle works. Hell, when he called me in New York   
to tell me he was getting married, my first reaction was to laugh."  
  
"I agree, they're certainly an interesting couple. But Cordy is so in love   
with him, I can hardly believe it. Don't get me wrong. She is my friend and   
I love her, but like you said, she's tough as nails and she's the last   
person I'd expected to fall in love like this."  
  
"Love isn't something you can choose," Angel said quietly. "The last four   
years would have been much easier if I could've just turned my feelings   
off."  
  
"Would you have liked to turn them off?" she asked, deliberately avoiding   
looking at him, too afraid of his answer.  
  
He hesitated, took a sip from his coffee. Putting his mug down, he propped   
his elbows on the table entwined his fingers and rested his chin on them.   
"There have been days and nights," he let out a short laugh, "mostly nights   
actually, when I wished I'd never met you," he said honestly, remembering   
the pain and heartache especially the first year after he'd left L.A.  
  
He saw her frown, but still she wouldn't lift her head, "I see," she   
whispered. "I really hurt you didn't I?"  
  
"You did," he agreed. When he saw her flinch he immediately reached out and   
covered her hands with one of his large. "But that was only on my bad days.   
Sitting here across you at the table, I know that my life would've been   
terribly empty without you."  
  
"I know how you feel," she replied, her voice just a whisper. Her head came   
up and he could see the moistness in her eyes. "I'm so glad you're back,"   
she admitted. "I was confused when Giles told us you were coming, I had no   
idea if you hated me. But now I'm glad."  
  
"Never," he said firmly, "I could never hate you. That's just not possible.   
There is no hate-Buffy-program on my hard-drive," he tried to make light of   
the intense situation.  
  
"I-," she started when her doorbell suddenly rang. Angel saw her blanche,   
felt her hand tremble under his, saw her eyes widen in sudden fear. He   
squeezed her trembling hand.  
  
"He's not going to hurt you again," he promised, getting up. "I'm just going   
to see who's there."  
  
She held his arm when he was about to pass her, "Angel, I don't want to see   
anyone. I don't... want to explain this," she pointed at her face and the   
bruises that were very visible.  
  
"Alright. I'll try to send them away. Okay?"  
  
She nodded and smiled gratefully. "Thanks."  
  
He smiled back, and then went for the door. He wasn't sure who was more   
surprised him or the person standing in the doorway. "Cordelia?"  
  
"Angel?" she said, raising a curious brow. "What a surprise. Or maybe not.   
Doyle swore that it was only a matter of time until you and Buffy got back   
together. But boy, do you work fast. You've been back barely a week and   
already I find you in her apartment." She took a deep breath, "Well, are you   
going to invite me in, or not?"  
  
"Cordelia," he hesitated, "Now isn't a good time."  
  
"Why? Is she not dressed yet?" she rolled her eyes, "believe me, Angel, I'm   
a big girl. The idea that people actually have sex with each other doesn't   
shock me anymore."  
  
"I know you're a big girl," he replied, but didn't step away. "Can't you   
accept that you aren't always welcome? Why didn't you call first?"  
  
She pursed her lips, and an expression of annoyance crossed her features,   
"Because, Mr. watch-dog, I had already a date with your... well, what would   
you call her?"  
  
"Just let her come in, Angel" Buffy called from the kitchen.  
  
He gave Cordelia another long look, "Don't upset her, do you hear?" he   
warned, making her stare at him in confusion, then stepped back to allow her   
to enter.  
  
"Thanks," she breezed past him, "I really can't see what's so special about   
him," she was already talking to Buffy, "Okay, so he's got a nice body," she   
said, walking towards the kitchen, "and he's not bad looking-"  
  
"Thanks," Angel commented with a smirk.  
  
Cordelia ignored him, "-but his manners leave a lot to be deserved. So,   
girlfriend would you now tell how it happened that I come to find a man in   
your... OH MY GOD!"  
  
"Cordy," Buffy said calmly after her friend's shocked outcry. "Calm down."  
  
"Calm down?" the brunette asked disbelievingly. "What happened to you? Were   
you mugged?"  
  
"No," Buffy shook her head, and then reached up to loosen the towel that was   
still wrapped around her hair. "I wasn't mugged."  
  
"But... what happened?" Cordelia wanted to know. With a helpless expression   
she sat down on a chair.  
  
The blond looked towards the doorway where Angel was standing. He smiled at   
her and she smiled back. Still looking at him she said, "Angel and I were   
having dinner last night, and a drink. Afterwards he kissed me at my car."   
The brunette raised a brow and her gaze went to Angel as well, when Buffy   
continued, "When I came home, Riley was already here. He must have seen us   
kissing. He was... out of his mind, and then he... just lost it."  
  
"And he hit you again?"  
  
"Yes, that and..." she hesitated. Taking a deep breath, she added, "He tried   
to rape me."  
  
"What?" Cordelia gasped.  
  
"He didn't go through with it, but he tried."  
  
"Oh," the brunette nodded, now believing to understand the situation, "And   
so you called Angel to report what was happening."  
  
"Yes and no."  
  
Cordelia narrowed her eyes, "What do you mean yes and no? Buffy, don't tell   
me you're letting him get away with this. He tried to rape you and he hit   
you. I would gladly prosecute his ass and make him pay."  
  
"I know," Buffy assured her. "I know Cordy, but for several reasons I don't   
want to. I decided not to report him and I expect you to respect that."  
  
"I-," Cordelia gave her a helpless look, then turned to Angel, "What are you   
saying to this... this nonsense? You can't honestly support her. Angel,   
Riley needs to be punished for this. He tried to rape her."  
  
"I agree," he replied, taking Buffy's hand, "And I told her that. But I can   
also understand what's keeping her from doing it. I respect her decision.   
There were special circumstances."  
  
"Oh no," the brunette looked back and forth between Buffy and Angel, "Don't   
try to tell me there were different circumstances. You're both detectives.   
There is no excuse for rape."  
  
"Attempted rape," Buffy threw in.  
  
"Well, then attempted rape. It doesn't really matter. He tried to force   
himself on you."  
  
"Yes, but he obviously realized it was wrong," the blond argued, "It   
wouldn't change anything if he was accused of attempted rape. First, we're   
still married, and I've seen more than one judge looking at a woman who   
accused her husband of rape. Secondly, I'm sure he won't do it again. And   
he's not going to go around and rape or try to rape other women. He isn't   
the type. I'm not going to report him, Cordelia, and you have to accept it."  
  
"Well... I... I don't know what else to say. I don't like your decision, but   
it seems I can't change your mind," the brunette said, throwing her hands in   
the air. In a last attempt she looked at Angel, hoping against hope that he   
would talk some sense into Buffy.  
  
"Cordelia I agree with you, completely. But I'm not going to put her through   
more than necessary. It's her decision to make," he said.  
  
The assistant DA took a deep breath, "Fine. Well, then, I suppose our trip   
to the beach is off?"  
  
"Oh God, I'm sorry," Buffy buried her head in her hands, "I forgot."  
  
"Understandable under these circumstances." Cordelia gave the blond a smile and   
patted her arm. Then she suddenly grinned wickedly, "So I'm going to drag   
Doyle there, oh, I can just see him groaning. He hates the beach, he hates   
the sun, says it's not good for his skin. Alright. See you on Monday," she   
said and stood. "Don't bother," she told Buffy who was about to get up, "I   
know the way." She gave them a short wave, before the door closed behind her.  
  
"You didn't tell her."  
  
"Hmmm?"  
  
"I said, you didn't tell her that I know about the real reason you came back."   
Buffy stood and moved close to him, raising her head to look into his eyes.  
  
"What?" he asked, mesmerized by the beauty of her bruised face, by the look   
in her eyes. "Oh, yeah. I know." He grinned suddenly, "It's the weekend."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"She's always telling me that work free time is sacred time. No work on   
weekend she says. So I decided to listen to her."  
  
"Oh?" Buffy raised a brow. "Angel," she asked again, "why didn't you tell her?"  
  
He sighed, "Because I think Monday is still early enough. Because we both know   
what would've happened if I told her. And you are in no condition to deal with   
one of her tantrums. Not today."  
  
"Oh," she said again, her eyes wide and grateful.  
  
"Yeah," he reached out and tenderly touched her cheek with his fingertips.   
"Does it still hurt?"  
  
"No, not really," she whispered, feeling a jolt of pleasure.  
  
"What do you want to do today?" he asked, forcing his mind away from   
dangerous ground. For God's sake, she just lived through her husband trying   
to rape her and he was thinking about opening her robe and... He jerked away   
from her, "Do you want to watch TV or shall I get you a movie or-"  
  
"Angel," she scolded gently.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You're babbling."  
  
"I am?" he asked, and then exhaled sharply, "Yeah, I know," he admitted with   
a little shaky laugh. "I'm sorry." He took a deep breath, "So what do you   
want to do?"  
  
"Could you... just hold me?"  
  
He groaned at the idea of her body pressing intimately to his, knowing it   
would be pure torture for him. But her eyes were huge and pleading, she   
trusted him to be with her, help her and he couldn't deny her anything.   
"That," he said, glad his voice didn't crack, "I can do." He held out his   
arms and she came to him, needing the closeness, the shelter of his body,   
the feeling of safety in his arms.  
  
"This is nice," she whispered.  
  
"Yes, it is," he replied, and realized it was the absolute truth.  
  
... to be continued 


	6. Chapter 6

Unforgettable - Part 6  
By Jill  
  
Sunday, August 27th, 5.00 p.m., Los Angeles  
  
They spent the whole weekend in Buffy's apartment talking, watching TV or   
sleeping. Saturday night Buffy fell asleep again in Angel's arms only this   
time he didn't carry her to bed but held her in his arms. Sunday morning   
found them on the sofa with arms and limbs entwined. It was a bit awkward at   
first, but then Buffy began to laugh because the belt of her robe had caught   
on the buttons of his shirt and that saved the situation.  
  
If someone had told Angel that he would spend a weekend with Buffy talking   
and holding her, he would've laughed. Firstly because not in his wildest   
dreams had he expected to be there at all and secondly if the unlikely case   
did occur talking wouldn't be on his mind. But of course he hadn't counted   
on Buffy getting a divorce or that she didn't blame him anymore. And by no   
means would he have ever imagined Riley going completely crazy.  
  
Again and again Angel's thoughts returned to the blue-eyed, blond-haired,   
laughing boy he once knew and somehow a part of his mind just couldn't   
comprehend that boy was the same one who had tried to rape his wife. What   
had happened to change him so profoundly? Or had he just been too blind to   
see that it had been there the whole time? The anger, the jealousy, the   
violence.  
  
##  
"Hey, Angel."  
  
A grinning Riley stood on the Reardon's doorstep, his hands bruised and his   
ten-year-old face smeared with dirt. Angel found himself grinning in return.   
"Riley! What happened to you?"  
  
"I borrowed Connor's bike," the blond answered, his grin wider than before.  
  
"And?" Angel asked, not understanding what happened. Connor was Riley's   
older brother by six years and he was a rebel. He drove a Harley, wore   
leather clothes and a red bandanna. Carmen Reardon always crossed herself   
when he drove by. Her husband just laughed. Angel and Riley on the other   
hand saw him as their hero. The only thing that irritated them was that   
Connor always had girls with him and kissed them a lot. What could a guy   
probably want from a girl?  
  
"The motorcycle," Riley clarified.  
  
Angel's eyes grew wide, "The motorbike? Oh sh-" he started saying, then   
quickly glanced behind himself to see if his mother heard him. Releasing a   
breath of relief, he amended, "I mean, wow. Where is it?"  
  
The blond turned his head and Angel followed his eyes to see the red machine   
standing on the sideway. And he figured out that the filth on Riley's face   
was nothing but motor oil. "What have you done?" he asked alarmed that the   
motorbike might be damaged. Connor most certainly wouldn't like to hear   
that.  
  
"Nothing," Riley shook his head as if the question was an insult. "I just   
took it. Connor's gone for two days. Dad gave him his car and so the bike   
stayed at home." He winked, "Wanna go for a ride?"  
  
"A ... ride?" Angel's mouth went dry with the thought of riding Connor's   
sacred bike. "But what if something happens? I mean we aren't allowed to   
ride a bike at all and Connor..." he trailed off, giving his friend a   
sceptic look.  
  
Riley made a dismissive gesture with his hand and snorted, "Nothing's going   
to happen. And it'll be fun." ##  
  
And Angel had gone with him. The result had been a bruised knee for Riley   
and a broken wrist for Angel. Their parents had scolded them and Connor   
who'd quickly discovered the damage to his bike looked as if he was ready to   
kill. Only after they'd sworn to pay for the repairs he grinned and   
winked at them. He really was a nice guy even though Connor made himself   
look tough and dangerous. Today he was working as a lawyer in Washington.   
Angel could still remember his mother's disbelief the day Mr. Finn had told   
them his oldest son was going to law school.  
  
God, those times had been fun. He had loved driving Connor's bike, Riley   
laughing all the time. It had even been worth the broken wrist.  
  
"Hey."  
  
Buffy's soft voice pulled him from his thoughts as she slipped onto the sofa   
beside him. "Hey," he replied, trying to come back to the present.  
  
She tilted her head and eyed him carefully, "Heavy thoughts?"  
  
He slightly shook his head, "No, not really. Or... well, I was just   
remembering when Riley took his brother's bike and we drove it right down a   
hill. He bruised his knee and I broke my wrist, but it was great. I..." he   
looked up and lifted his shoulders in a helpless gesture.  
  
"I know," she replied, leaning her head against his right shoulder. "I think   
it's even harder for you. You have so many memories, good ones. I just..."   
she trailed off, not knowing how to explain, but knowing also that she wouldn't   
need to, that Angel would understand without words.  
  
"Do you know how Connor is?" he asked after a moment.  
  
"He's fine. Riley and him don't talk very often as far as I know. He came to   
our wedding, then twice afterwards, but I don't know if they called each   
other once the last two years. That's when... when Riley started seeing   
other women," she said, and he heard it in her voice that she had problems   
saying it. He knew she hadn't loved Riley, but she still was his wife and he   
had cheated on her, it was humiliating nevertheless, and obviously   
everyone at the precinct knew about it.  
  
"Riley wasn't bad the first two years," she continued calmly, "We had some   
really good times. Fun. Laughter. Then suddenly everything changed. I   
still-" she paused abruptly and her head came up from his shoulder, an odd   
expression on her face, "You know," she said, "Don't you think it's strange   
that almost over night his attitude, not just towards me, but his whole   
attitude changed? I never even tried to find out why. But now..." she looked   
speculatively, and Angel knew what she was referring to.  
  
"You think he might be...?"  
  
"I don't know," she lifted her shoulders in a helpless shrug, "and I really   
hope I'm wrong. I mean there might be something else, something we just   
don't know about. He isn't the most communicative guy. I know he seems open   
and all, but he never really confided in me."  
  
"No he doesn't," Angel confirmed. "The blond California boy look fools a lot   
of people. But deep down, Riley is a completely different person. And you're   
right you know. It's one thing to be jealous and to try to steal your   
friend's girlfriend but that..." he shook his head, still not able to accept   
that fact that his former best friend had tried to rape his wife. "I just   
don't get it."  
  
"Last night you said you followed him. Did you find anything interesting?"  
  
He hesitated only a second, he told her everything he'd found out, including   
Riley's encounter with Simone Chambers and his own suspicions about it.  
  
She wasn't surprised, but her eyes were incredibly sad, "Yeah. That sounds   
like him. Unfortunately that's the Riley I've known the last two years. That   
was the reason I finally found the courage to file for divorce. Oh, Angel,"   
she put her head back on his shoulder, "What are we going to do?"  
  
He desperately wanted to make this easier for her, so he suggested, "How   
about telling Cordelia about that you know about the investigation?" He had   
wanted to wait until Monday, but maybe, he thought, it was better to talk to   
the brunette in private.  
  
She rolled her eyes, and blinked, understanding what he was trying to do,   
"Gee, and I thought this weekend couldn't get worse."  
  
*****  
  
Riley didn't have a nice weekend. After he left the apartment he'd once   
lived in, he went to the closest bar and got incredibly drunk. But the image   
of Angel kissing Buffy and especially her response wouldn't let go. God, he   
hated the bastard. And he hated the fact that his wife had never stopped   
loving Angel. And more than anything he hated himself for being so stupid to   
think that would ever change. That the mere fact that she was wearing his   
ring would wipe the memory of another man away.  
  
God, how stupid could a guy be?  
  
Groaning, he turned in his bed and wasn't really surprised to find a naked   
woman beside him, although for the life of him he couldn't remember her name   
or how she'd gotten there. What, however, they'd done in the bed was quite   
obvious, regarding the fact that he was naked too. It was late Sunday   
afternoon and he had no memory of the last 40 hours and he desperately   
wished his temporary amnesia would include a little earlier. Then, he   
thought, he wouldn't have to remember what he'd almost done to the woman he   
still loved more than he could express. The only woman he had ever loved.   
The one who never loved him back.  
  
Hissing some expletive he pushed the naked woman's warm body away, stumbled   
from his bed and into his trousers to pour himself a drink and light a   
cigarette. Running a hand through his tousled hair, he let out a harsh   
laugh. God, he was pathetic. His father would turn in his grave if he were   
able to see him like this. And his deeply catholic mother wouldn't stop   
reciting Hail Marys, hoping that that would somehow make up for her son's   
sins and reduce his time in the purgatory.  
  
Purgatory. Another harsh laugh came out of his mouth, and he downed the   
whiskey in one large gulp. His mother had no idea. He was in his own   
personal purgatory. Ever since two years ago, almost to the day, when he'd   
almost by accident, been able to read the final report about the shooting in   
front of the bank, the shooting that had killed Buffy's brother Mike.  
  
His hand suddenly shaky he poured himself another drink and downed it the   
same way he'd done with the other. God, he needed it. He managed to go   
through weekdays without it, he was occupied then, dealing with cases, but   
he also had to look at her, and at night, or after waking up, the reality   
would crush down on him, almost making him drown under the weight of his own   
guilt.  
  
He could still hear his mother say, "isn't he a nice boy", and he wanted to   
smash something thinking back to her words. His mother had been dead for   
over five years and not for the first time Riley was glad. She wouldn't have   
been able to live with the shame of what her son had done with his life. Her   
son meaning Riley. Not Connor, whom everyone had expected to fail.  
  
But of course Connor hadn't failed. On the contrary. He was a successful   
lawyer in Washington, working for a Senator from time to time, making good   
money and he was happily married with three kids. With 41, Connor had   
managed to get all the things Riley had wanted for himself. And he hadn't   
screwed up, the way his little brother had done. Buffy had once asked him   
why he didn't call Connor anymore. The brothers had always been close   
despite the age difference in their youth. But how could he face Connor,   
look into his brother's eyes after the things he'd done?  
  
He felt better after the fourth drink, but of course he still wasn't drunk.   
His increasing alcohol abuse during the last two years demanded more than   
four shots to make him numb enough to be able to live with himself. He   
turned when he heard the woman yawn and looked down at her. She was pretty   
he had to admit. It should boost his ego to see that good-looking women   
easily fell for him. He knew why. Somehow he had managed to preserve his   
body. He was still fit and well trained, despite the alcohol. It was   
necessary for his job.  
  
He loved being a cop, had always loved it. He had been so incredibly proud   
after the Academy. Now it was the only thing he'd left. The only thing that   
held him together. He couldn't afford to lose his job. Without it, there   
would be nothing left. So he held his body fit and did his job. And he did   
it well, he was a good cop.  
  
"Can I have a drink too?" the woman asked, slipping from the bed, completely   
unconcerned about her own nakedness. Her voice was soft and sexy. Her eyes   
were still half-closed and under normal circumstances Riley would've found   
it attractive. Now, it simply repulsed him.  
  
"No," he said sharply, hating the woman, hating himself more. "Get your   
clothes and get out."  
  
"Hey," she smiled and came closer. "No need to get angry. I don't need a   
drink." She reached out, her finger trailed down his chest, and stopped at his   
denims, "We can do other things instead."  
  
He slapped her hand away and stepped back, "I said, get out," he almost   
shouted.  
  
Her eyes widened for a moment, then they narrowed, "Geez, no need to get   
insulting. I'm gone in a minute."  
  
"Make it a second," he hissed and turned away. He didn't want to see her   
again. Didn't want to think about her. She was just a woman, without a name,   
and in a minute without a face. He wouldn't even remember her tomorrow.  
  
Mike's face came into his mind again and with a tortured sound he threw his   
half-full glass across the room and it smashed against the wall breaking into a   
thousand pieces. The woman, who was still only in her bra and panties,   
gathered the rest of her clothes and hurried out, not willing to risk   
staying close to him.  
  
Riley didn't even notice it. He walked over to the kitchen counter and took   
another glass, then filled it to the rim. Maybe after he'd downed the   
contents he would be able to forget. And if he was lucky the booze would   
some day make the memories disappear all together.  
  
*****  
  
Same day, 7.00 p.m.  
  
If Cordelia hadn't told him about what had happened in Buffy's apartment two   
days ago, Doyle would've grinned seeing Angel and his former, and judging   
his friend's expression also, his present love-interest standing there when   
he opened the door. But because he knew, his face was compassionate when it   
fell on the tiny blond, "Buffy," he said gently and smiled, then nodded at   
Angel. "What can we do for you?"  
  
"We need to talk to your fiancée," Angel announced and nodded as well, when   
Doyle stepped back to invite them in. They went past him and Doyle was   
surprised to see Buffy smile slightly. He had seen rape-victims before and   
they usually looked frightened or subdued, some of them even angry, but the   
blond was calm, and if it hadn't been for the colorful bruise on her cheek   
nobody would've guessed what had occurred not even 48 hours ago.  
  
Okay, so was "only" an attempted rape, but Doyle learned quickly that for   
some women that didn't make a difference. The violation of their individual   
space and the feeling of complete helplessness also left those who had   
escaped rape at the last possible moment shaken and scarred. Why it seemed   
so different for Buffy, he could only guess. She must be incredibly strong   
or it could have been Angel's company; probably it was a combination of   
both. Or, she just didn't show her feelings, let others only see a pretty   
surface, not wanting them to detect what was underneath.  
  
He was pulled from his thoughts by the appearance of his soon-to-be wife who   
just came from the bedroom, concentrating on inserting an earring. They were   
due for a dinner with Cordelia's boss in an hour and she'd been particularly   
careful in choosing the right dress. A moment before she would've ran right   
into Angel's chest she became aware of the company and stopped with a   
startled gasp, put a hand over her chest, "Oh my God," she closed her eyes   
for a moment, then looked at Angel, "*What* are you doing here? You almost   
gave me a heart attack."  
  
She took a deep breath, ignored Angel's amused grin and shifted her   
attention towards Buffy, "How are you?" she asked immediately.  
  
"I'm okay," the blond replied and Cordelia's concern settled a little. She'd   
expected some bright 'I'm fine', but Buffy's quiet reaction gave her the   
feeling that the blond meant what she said. "A bit shaken still," Buffy   
added, smiling at Angel when he took her hand, "but so far okay."  
  
"That's good," Cordelia gave her a friendly smile, then looked back and   
forth between her two visitors, "So why are you here?"  
  
"What?" Angel raised a brow, "No tantrum today?"  
  
Doyle snickered and his fiancée shot him a nasty look, before she turned   
back to Angel, "Just tell me why you're here. I have an important date in an   
hour. My boss throws a birthday party for his wife and has invited us. I   
can't be late." She sighed, then amended, "*We* can't be late."  
  
Buffy pulled slightly at Angel's hand, when she replied, "Oh, well, if   
you're busy... We can talk about this tomorrow," she suggested.  
  
Codelia's gaze again went back and forward between her guests, and after a   
moment of considering the situation, she sighed, "No. I'd rather hear the   
bad news now."  
  
"Bad news?" Buffy asked a bit breathless. "Who said it was bad news?"  
  
"Buffy," the brunette sounded as if the blonde's question had been an insult   
to her intelligence, "I've known you almost twenty years. Don't you think I   
can notice a guilty expression when I see one?"  
  
The blond was about to reply again when she felt Angel squeeze the hand he   
was still holding. When she turned to look at him she saw him shaking his   
head slightly, signaling her to let the explaining to him. "May we sit down   
for a minute?" he asked.  
  
"Sit down, huh?" Doyle grinned. "That bad?"  
  
Cordelia glared at him again, but couldn't shake off the feeling that his   
comment was - as so often - right on the money. Doyle was rarely wrong, and   
if nothing else, the way Buffy and Angel were looking at each other was more   
than just slightly suspicious. "Okay, then," she said with an exaggerated   
sigh, "spill it. Ruin my evening."  
  
Angel smiled slightly, "Ruin your evening? I wouldn't dare." His smile   
widened into a grin when he saw her narrowing her eyes. "Never mind," he   
continued, "The reason we came was that I told Buffy about the   
investigation." He said it calmly, almost casually, and then glancing   
shortly at Doyle, whose eyes had widened in surprise and understanding, he   
shifted his attention back to Cordelia.  
  
It was almost funny to see the myriad of emotions crossing the brunette's   
face in a matter of seconds. There was surprise, disbelief, anger, and many   
more Angel wasn't able to name. In the end she just stared at him as if he'd   
suddenly grown a second head. "You're sure you are alright?" she asked, her   
voice a bit shaky, the disbelief clearly audible. "I mean just to make sure.   
You didn't recently split your personality and thought, what the heck, I'm   
undercover for the Internal Department and in my other life I choose to do   
whatever I want?" Now her voice was soft, too soft, and Angel could already   
anticipate the explosion of anger that was about to erupt any minute.  
  
"Cordelia-" Buffy tried to intervene and explain but she was cut off when   
the assistant DA jumped to her feet and began to pace the room, her hands   
waving frantically through the air.  
  
"I don't believe it. Who else knows about this? Riley, because he was your   
pal once, or Darla, because you and her hit the sack together all those   
years ago, or... hey, why not Drusilla, because she was your rookie and if   
I'm guessing right, Spike is probably bonking her this very moment," she   
raged, her strides getting more agitated by the minute.  
  
"Cordy, darling-" Doyle tried to soothe her but the dark glare she shot him   
made him shut up instantly. He knew her well enough to see that now was not the   
time to discuss things. Or to try to calm the waves. The hurricane was in   
full force and nothing would stop it now.  
  
She stopped suddenly, straightened, her hands firmly planted at her hips,   
she took two menacing steps in Angel's direction, who to Doyle's utter   
surprise was sitting calmly, seemingly not caring for the storm that was   
about to come upon him. Like a very old, strong tree, Doyle mused.   
Completely unconcerned about the upcoming danger. But, even the strongest   
tree could be felled if the storm was furious enough.  
  
"I should fire you," she hissed, "Fire you right now. It's inexcusable."   
Almost audibly her head snapped around and her eyes focused on Buffy for a   
moment, "I hope you know this has nothing to do with you personally," she   
said a little calmer. "I'm your friend and I never thought you were involved   
in any of this, but," her eyes narrowed again when they came back to rest on   
Angel, "this is a matter of trust and obedience. You knew exactly what your  
job was. You knew what you were meant to do and... what not."  
  
She took a deep breath and combed a hand through her hair, "Unfortunately,   
you're already in too deep to replace you. Besides there's nobody equally   
qualified for the job. With enough inside knowledge, enough experience, and   
still distant enough to be objective. Or at least that's what I thought. It   
seems at least in point three I was wrong," she ended her rant. Then   
noticing the smug look on Angel's face, she sighed, "And I suppose you   
already knew."  
  
"Of course I did," he grinned, "but I also knew you had to get some steam   
out of your system."  
  
"You're very sure of yourself," a warning entered Cordelia's voice. A   
warning that she would only tolerate so much.  
  
"In this case, I was," Angel replied, winking at her, making her laugh   
against her own will. "Cordelia," his voice was suddenly serious, almost   
pleading, "I couldn't keep it from Buffy. She needed to know what was going   
on. I refuse to start anything on a lie."  
  
"I can understand that," she replied after a minute, "A lie can be... wait a   
moment," she stared at her visitors, "You refuse to start what? What is   
going on here?" Then her eyes suddenly widened and now a grin appeared on   
her face, "My, my, this is even more serious than I thought yesterday," she   
stated, exchanging a short glance with her future husband.  
  
Angel felt suddenly uncomfortable with her excitement. Sure, he and Buffy   
had spent a weekend together. But it had been unusual circumstances that led   
to it and they'd spent the time as friends only. Yes, there was still a   
strong sexual attraction. Angel wasn't oblivious to it, and he also didn't   
want to deny it. But they hadn't once discussed any future plans or what her   
plans were. She was, after all, still married to Riley. And although he knew   
there were no feelings from her side and that she was glad it would be over   
soon, there was no guarantee she would jump into the next relationship,   
giving up the independence she just gained. "Cordelia, you're jumping to   
conclusions here," he said and now there was a warning in his voice.  
  
Of course the brunette ignored it, too happy with her friends and feeling   
too smug at the moment. She was the one amongst her friends who'd always   
insisted Buffy and Angel would get together again, who'd all but ignored   
Riley's existence, and who was now feeling better than ever. She could   
hardly wait to call Willow, Xander and Faith to tell them the good news.   
Besides, underneath all her tough behavior, the heart of a romantic was   
beating strongly, a side of her only very few people were allowed to see. "I   
still see what I see," she replied, her gaze darting back and forth between   
Buffy and Angel.  
  
"We had one dinner together," the blond tried to calm down her friend's   
excitement. At the moment Buffy felt a bit cornered. There was no denying of   
her feelings for Angel, and she felt comfortable in his presence, was   
grateful for the understanding that had helped her to get through the   
weekend, but besides a toe curling kiss at her car, Angel had behaved like a   
friend, and for all she knew it could be all he intended to be. Plus, she   
had absolutely no urge to have all her friends interfere with her love life.   
She could almost hear Willow's excited babble, and Xander's oh so funny   
remarks or Faith's smug grin.  
  
"So you had dinner together already," Cordelia raised a knowing brow at the   
couple. "And why didn't you tell me?" she demanded, feeling slightly hurt by   
the lack of confidence by her friend.  
  
"Cordy, leave them alone," Doyle said, giving Buffy and Angel a   
compassionate glance. He of all people knew exactly how persistent his   
fiancée could be. "It's none of your business."  
  
The look she gave him when she turned around was so funny he had a hard time   
not laughing. She stared at him with utter disbelief, "Not my business?" She   
could have asked referring to her own hair or to her bank account. The   
remark seemed absolutely ridiculous to her. "Of course this is my business.   
Buffy is my friend. Angel works for me. Whatever happens to them is   
absolutely my business."  
  
Angel decided that now was not the time to discuss the matter, "Anyways," he   
said, looking at Cordelia, "Wasn't there a dinner you had to attend?"  
  
"A dinner?" she stared at him, completely at loss for a moment, then panic   
entered her eyes. "The dinner! Christ almighty. We need to be there on   
time." Like a bullet she shot up from the chair she'd been sitting on, "I   
need to finish my makeup." She was almost out of the room, when she turned,   
"We have to talk about this tomorrow. With my bossy," she told Angel. "Be at   
my office at two, both of you."  
  
"Yes, sir," the dark-haired man joked when the door slammed behind her. He   
heard Buffy chuckle, and gave her a warm smile. It was so good to feel her   
relax and think about things other than Riley for a moment. "Sorry," he said   
after a moment, shifting his eyes towards Doyle.  
  
"No worries," his friend grinned when they all walked to the door, "I   
understand you had to tell her. Besides," he winked at them, "doesn't she   
look great when she's all worked up. Of course I'd never tell her, but she   
is even more beautiful this way."  
  
Buffy grinned back, "Yes, but you better never tell her."  
  
"Never," Angel agreed and the three laughed.  
  
They shook hands at the door and Doyle gave the blond a warm smile, "Take   
care of yourself," he said. Then his eyes were on Angel for a moment, "But I   
guess I don't have to worry."  
  
Buffy followed his eyes and smiled too, "No, I don't think so."  
  
*****  
  
Monday, August 28th, 9.00 a.m., Los Angeles  
  
Riley couldn't remember when he ever dreaded entering his precinct the way   
he did now. He had been numb the whole weekend, couldn't even remember most   
of it. His only hour of awareness, when he woke up with a heavy head and an   
even heavier heart beside a woman whose name he still couldn't remember, had   
been drowned in two bottles of Scottish Whisky.  
  
But with Monday morning where there was no opportunity to escape into a   
alcohol oblivion, the memories were back in full force. There was no way of   
denying it anymore. He'd gone into a jealous rage and tried to rape his   
wife.  
  
There was a feeling of disgust inside of him, but it was also mixed with the   
dread that everyone would know, that she would've told her friends, namely   
Xander and Willow and of course that bitch Cordelia Chase. Riley hadn't even   
contemplated the idea that Buffy might have reported him for what he'd done.   
But now, entering the place where the good guys were trying to get the bad   
guys, he was hit front with it and he could feel cold sweat forming on his   
forehead, some of it even trickling down between his shoulder blades. God,   
what was he going to do if she'd reported him?  
  
It wasn't that he didn't feel sorry for what he'd done. Because he did. He   
felt sorry and disgusted with himself, knowing what he'd almost done,   
remembering the fear and panic in her eyes when he'd thrown her to the   
ground, his large body pinning her down. But there was already so much he   
felt sorry for in his life, this was just one thing more on his   
overloaded conscience.  
  
The thought, however, of being reported for attempted rape, being prosecuted   
and probably convicted in the end made his throat close up and his gut knot   
in fear. The consequence would be that he would lose his job and that was   
something that he wouldn't be able to deal with.  
  
Not really caring where he was going he bumped right into another body and   
startled he was looking at the last person he wanted to face today.  
  
"Buffy," he almost whispered.  
  
"Ri - Riley."  
  
He saw a shudder running over her body, but she controlled it after only a   
second. They stared at each other, neither of them able to move, although   
all they both wanted was to run for cover. But somehow they seemed frozen in   
shock at the unexpected closeness after what had happened barely more than   
48 hours ago.  
  
Then suddenly she seemed to shake herself out of whatever had been holding   
her in place and wanted to hurry away, when he reached for her and held onto   
her arm, "Wait," he said.  
  
She turned slowly and the look in her eyes took his breath away. On the   
surface they were cool and controlled, but underneath he could see pure   
hatred. "Let go," she hissed.  
  
"Buffy, please," he said, ignoring her command, "I just want to talk to   
you."  
  
"But I don't want to talk," she replied, shifting to get her arm free. "And   
I said, let go."  
  
Again, he ignored her, "I just want to say how sorry I am, I-"  
  
He couldn't finish his sentence since a hand came down on his shoulder and   
his body was propelled backward with great force. He slammed against the   
wall, the force of the impact pressing the air from his lungs so that he had   
trouble drawing a breath.  
  
"She said, let go," came Angel's angry and biting voice and Riley's head   
jerked up.  
  
He stared at the other man, whose body was trembling with rage. The blond   
tried to form words, but he still couldn't make his voice work. So he just   
held up his hands in surrender.  
  
"Stay away from her," Angel warned, "Do you understand? Stay away or our   
next encounter won't be just a free flight through a room."  
  
"I just... tried to say I'm sorry," Riley finally managed, straightening   
against the wall. "And I am sorry."  
  
"Nobody cares if you're sorry," Angel hissed advancing the other man again.  
  
The blond looked at his former friend and with sudden understanding he could   
feel the anger boiling up in him as well, "Oh, I see, she called you. Her   
white knight in shining armor." He should've known that she would run to   
her beloved, he thought bitingly.  
  
"You better shut up," Angel warned again, "You should be glad I'm a cop.   
Because if I wasn't, I would end this here and now."  
  
"Oh really," Riley mocked, his guilt instantly forgotten, overruled by well   
known jealousy, "Did she call you to finish what I didn't give her?" he   
asked, "She was hot you know, but honestly, she isn't as tempting as she was   
before. That's the reason she had to call you for what she couldn't get from   
me."  
  
It all happened the same moment. Buffy gasped in shock while Angel - with an   
outcry of rage - hurled himself on Riley. The same moment Xander, Spike,   
Drusilla and Faith entered the precinct and seeing what was happening they   
launched themselves between the two enraged men and separated them by sheer   
force.  
  
"WHOA," Xander said when Riley swung his fist and missed the dark-haired   
man's face only by an inch. "Take his other arm," he hissed at Faith, while   
Spike tried to hold Angel back. The blond had known Angel for a while but   
never before had he seen such an expression of rage in the other man's eyes.  
  
"Angel."  
  
Buffy's soft, pleading voice finally managed to cut through the red haze   
that was still swimming in front of Angel's eyes at Riley's words and he had   
to take several calming breaths to think clearly again. For a moment he   
really lost it and all he wanted was kill the bastard who had done this to   
Buffy and was now mocking her with it.  
  
Running a shaky hand through his hair he focused on Buffy, "I'm sorry," he   
whispered. "I lost it for a second."  
  
She smiled a bit crookedly, "I noticed. But Angel, he isn't worth it."  
  
"I know," he replied and turned his head towards Spike who was still holding   
his arm. "I'm okay now," he told his friend with a nod.  
  
"You sure?" the blond asked not quite convinced. He had still problems   
recognizing his friend in the raging maniac he'd seen only minutes ago.   
"What happened?"  
  
Angel glanced quickly at the spot where Riley had been standing just before,   
but his former friend was gone. Xander and Faith had led him quickly away to   
avoid any further confrontation. "It's not important."  
  
Spike raised a brow at that, and so Buffy said, "He wanted to apologize, I   
think, but he touched me and I didn't... want it. So Angel pulled him away   
from me and then..." she shrugged, "the situation escalated from there."  
  
"So I saw." Spike sighed, "You almost lost it there my friend," he told   
Angel with a serious face. "I wouldn't have liked to arrest you for the   
murder of filth."  
  
The dark-haired man closed his eyes for a moment, "Sorry. He... he said   
things..." His hands were still shaky and he was grateful when Buffy took   
one of them. "I can't believe that's the person I once knew." He swallowed   
hard and shook his head as if he had to clear his mind.  
  
Seeing Angel's distress Buffy gave Spike a quick sign and with a nod and a   
last look at his friend he walked away while Buffy was already pulling the   
other man into the women's bathroom.  
  
Angel was following her without resistance and only when the door closed   
behind them he blinked, "It seems we end up in here a lot," he murmured.  
  
Buffy smiled at his words, "Last time you had to hold me, today it's my   
turn," she said and slung her arms around his waist holding him close.  
  
His arms came around her after only a short hesitation, "You shouldn't have   
to do this," he whispered against her ear, "What he said to you..." his   
voice trailed off, the pain clearly audible.  
  
"Shhhh," she soothed, stroking his back, feeling a thrill of pleasure   
holding him, being held by him, despite the horrible scene with Riley   
before. "It's okay. I was surprised, that's all. He can't really hurt me   
anymore."  
  
He raised his hand and took her chin between thumb and forefinger so that   
she had to look at him, "You sure?"  
  
"Yes," she replied honestly and smiled. "You can only be hurt by people who   
mean something to you."  
  
He was watching her face intently and finally he nodded, obviously satisfied   
with what he was seeing there. "How was your night?" he asked softly, the   
back of his fingers caressing her cheek, where the bruise Riley had caused   
was hidden under makeup.  
  
"Okay," she told him. "After you left, I drank the tea you made for me, then   
I went to sleep. I'm alright, really."  
  
"Good," he said, then bent down and kissed her forehead. "Will you be   
alright for the day?" he wanted to know, concern in his eyes.  
  
"Yes," she assured him, touching his cheek with one hand. The emotions   
whirling through her this moment were so strong, so overwhelming. She felt   
so close to him, not just physically, but in every possible way. Remembering   
that they were still in the women's bathroom of the police station, she   
cleared her throat and straightened. "What are you going to do today?" she   
asked to change the subject.  
  
Angel straightened as well. He pulled back and Buffy stifled a moan at the   
sudden loss of his warmth. "Well, there's still our date with Cordelia. She   
called me this morning, insisting again that you'd come with me."  
  
"Oh?" Buffy raised a brow.  
  
"Yeah. Spike and I complained we weren't enough people to do the job, so   
they agreed we'd get some help." He suddenly grinned, "Seems my indiscretion   
brought you a new job."  
  
Her eyes rounded, "What?"  
  
"Yeah," was all he replied, an apologetic look in his eyes. "I should've   
kept my mouth shut. I'm sorry, I know how it feels to spy on friends and-"  
  
Her fingers on his lips stopped him, "No need to apologize. It was the right   
thing to do. I'm glad you trusted me with it." She suddenly rolled her eyes,   
"Although, maybe I should amend that. The idea of Cordelia being my boss   
now..."  
  
As a reply he grinned, "Pretty scary, huh? But we can suffer together." He   
reached for the door-handle, "How about we go tell Giles?"  
  
She nodded, "Yeah, that'd be good."  
  
*****  
  
His eyes drifted to the lieutenant's office from time to time, what the hell   
were they doing with Giles, Riley thought. Ten minutes after he'd been   
pulled away from Angel, the dark-haired man and Buffy had entered Giles'   
office. That had been half an hour ago.  
  
Were they telling him about what had happened in Buffy's apartment Friday   
night? Would they report him now? God, he should've known that she'd call   
Angel the moment he was out of the door. His former so-called friend was   
back for a week and he and Buffy were already attached at the hip. The way   
Angel had come to her rescue, the way Angel had looked at him, with murder   
in his eyes. Angel had been ready to kill him, for a moment Riley had seen   
it in the other man's eyes, the cold determination, that made him shiver   
even now.  
  
Angel wasn't a violent person, he was usually the type who would try to talk   
and discuss things through, try to persuade people. Riley had often mocked   
him for being too soft, for still being a virgin when they'd started college   
all those years ago. He had felt good because as far as girls were   
concerned, Riley had the advantage.  
  
But to Riley's amazement, Angel didn't care. He showed no intention to get   
even with his friend and when they'd left college and entered the Police   
Academy, Angel had only had two girlfriends, while Riley hadn't been quite   
as selective and in his senior year had developed a special taste for   
freshmen. There had been Darla then and Riley thought about the nice   
brunette Angel met for a while, but nothing more.  
  
Where girls were concerned Angel was downright boring. Riley had never been   
able to understand why he hadn't used his position as quarterback of the   
college football team. The girls were throwing themselves at Angel, but he   
wouldn't even look. Riley once asked, and his friend had shrugged and told   
him that he wasn't interested in casual sex.  
  
And then they met Buffy. They had been on an assignment and Buffy had worked   
at the same case. The attraction between Angel and her had been immediate   
and strong. The air crackled between them, and they weren't able to look   
anywhere but at each other. Within a week they were a couple, inseparable   
and deeply in love. So deep that neither of them noticed that Riley had been   
falling in love with her as well.  
  
He'd known from the first moment that she was the one. The woman you met   
once in a lifetime, but she didn't look at him, not even once. Her eyes were   
on Angel, and only on Angel. Riley would never forget the pain slicing   
through him when Angel showed him the engagement ring he'd bought for Buffy   
and Riley knew that it was the end of his dreams, knew without a doubt that   
she would accept Angel's proposal.  
  
Then Mike had died and everything changed. Riley had seen his opportunity in   
holding Buffy's hand when it was certain it had been Angel's weapon. She'd   
cried in his arms for days and then after an especially horrible day for her   
they ended up in bed. Two weeks later Buffy accepted his proposal and after   
another two weeks they were married. Riley didn't ask why, he didn't want to   
know. All he knew was that the woman of his dreams was finally his and that   
Angel was out of their lives, for what Riley believed had been for good.  
  
Of course his luck never stayed for long, and now Angel was back, his wife   
was divorcing him and if he was guessing right they were destroying his   
career right this moment.  
  
No, he thought, and pressed thumb and forefinger against his eyes, rubbing   
them roughly. They weren't destroying his career. He did that all by   
himself. Not just 48 hours ago when he'd lost it and tried to rape his wife,   
but two years ago when an accident had ended all his dreams forever.  
  
But even knowing that, he found himself hoping they were talking about a   
completely different subject in Giles' office.  
  
... to be continued 


	7. Chapter 7

Unforgettable - Part 7  
By Jill  
  
Same day, 4.00 p.m.  
  
"So we're getting the help we need after all," Spike said from his spot   
beside Angel. They were sitting in Angel's car again, where more empty cans   
and stuff were littering the floor. Angel sighed inwardly, that was   
obviously the price he had to pay to avoid Spike's smoking. "Although I   
guess the lovely Miss Chase didn't really like the way you got it."  
  
Angel shot him a sideways glance, "No, not really. Brent Harley and her   
boss, Tim Philips, were cool though. Brent checked Buffy's account   
and stuff and had her already taken off his list. And Tim," now he had to   
grin, "just told Cordelia that this would take care of the problem very   
neatly. You should've seen her face."  
  
Spike laughed out loud, "Too bad I wasn't there. But hey, I got to watch our   
beloved Darla instead." When he saw Angel turn his head and raise a   
questioning brow, he shook his head, "Nothing happened. She just did her   
job. Really boring. Which reminds me, the deal isn't fair, you know. You get   
to work with the lovely Buffy while I'll spend tomorrow with Alexander Harris.   
What kind of mother calls her son Alexander anyway?"  
  
"You wouldn't want to know," Angel replied thinking about Xander's mother   
who was an alcoholic and his father who'd died ten years ago from liver   
cirrhosis. It was almost a miracle that Xander had managed to stay clean.   
"Xander's alright. Gets on your nerves sometimes, but he's a good guy.   
Actually right after Buffy he was the next off my private list. He just   
isn't the type to betray a friend or colleague."  
  
"But you see the problem, don't you," Spike asked, "I mean you and," he   
wiggled his brows, "Buffy. And then there's me and... well, Xander. Why do   
you get Buffy and I don't get Dru?"  
  
"Speaking of Dru-" Angel began but was cut off when his friend raised a   
hand.  
  
"Stop right there. I'm not talking about Dru. She might have been your   
rookie once, but she isn't any of your business now. This is private, okay!"  
  
It wasn't a request, it was a warning, Angel realized and was more than a   
bit surprised, "Oh?" he said, one of his brows coming up.  
  
"Yeah, oh," Spike replied gruffly. "God, I don't need this," he exclaimed.   
"Why can't I just have some nice uncomplicated fling? But, no. Of course   
Spike has to meet...," he paused, exhaled a long breath and ran a hand through   
his short hair. "This is downright freaking you know."  
  
His friend chuckled slightly, but there was a world of knowledge in his   
eyes, "I know," he said simply. "Does she know?"  
  
"Well," the blond hesitated for a moment, and then said, "We didn't actually   
talk about it. But hell, I never thought I'd fall like this. Head over   
heels. Last time... it was slowly, but surely, but this," he shook his head   
as if he was still not able to understand what was happening with him. There   
was annoyance in his eyes, when he added, "I avoided it. Not ever again, I   
vowed and then it hits me and there's absolutely nothing I can do."  
  
Angel had to smile at the honest despair in his friend's voice. "Dru's a   
great girl. She's a great cop. But she's sweet and vulnerable so don't hurt   
her. She tends to..." he began, then stopped, started again, "While she was   
working with me, there was a guy. She got pregnant and he left her. Treated   
her badly. She lost the baby and it almost destroyed her. So be careful," he   
paused again, "I wouldn't usually tell you this, but..." he shrugged.  
  
"I understand and I'll do my best," Spike promised, his heart going out to   
the girl she'd been years ago. Thinking about her lost and lonely made him   
want to kill the guy who'd done this to her and in that very moment he   
suddenly understood what he'd seen on Angel's face this morning when he'd   
been on the brink of breaking Riley's neck. He wasn't sure if Angel would   
have gone through with it, but he knew that his friend had been close to the   
edge.  
  
"So Darla didn't do anything special?" Angel asked, changing the subject.  
  
"No," with a sigh Spike shook his head. "She and that Kate-girl went to   
investigate, then to dinner, then they were observing a guy. So I was   
observing the observing team. It was so interesting, I almost fell asleep."  
  
His partner chuckled, "Poor boy. I wish-"  
  
He stopped when the door of the house they'd been observing suddenly opened   
and Riley Finn stepped out in the open. He was on his own, his hands buried   
in the pockets of his trousers, he was ducking his head and walked towards   
his car. After a moment the door opened again and a short kind of man   
appeared in the doorway.  
  
"Riley," he called and the blond stopped, then turned.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Are you sure about this?" the short man asked.  
  
Riley's eyes narrowed, "Are you doubting my decisions?"  
  
"N-no," the short one replied hastily, obviously afraid.  
  
"Good," the blonde's stance relaxed and he was fumbling in his pocket for   
his car keys. "Don't forget, I'm the boss in this."  
  
"O-okay, Riley," the other man stuttered, then stepped back and closed the   
door. Riley's face stayed on the door for a moment. Finally he shrugged and   
went for his car, got in it and drove away.  
  
Angel sighed and started the ignition, while Spike fastened his seat belt,   
"Ain't that day fun," the blond said on a grimace, "I get to watch Darla and   
Riley on one day. Tomorrow I'm going to work with Xander. I'm some lucky   
guy."  
  
*****  
  
"Oh my God." With wide eyes, filled with shame and shock Simone  
Chambers stared at the pictures on her desk. There were six of them and all   
showed her and Riley Finn in an unmistakable situation. Her breath came in   
shallow gasps and her mouth was suddenly dry, so that it was impossible to   
swallow the lump in her throat.  
  
She didn't dare to look up, didn't dare to look into the pair of accusing   
blue eyes, the eyes she loved so much. Didn't want to see the blame in them,   
didn't want to see them looking at her without love and warmth. But she knew   
she had to and so she slowly raised her head, her watery eyes on the man in   
front of her. "Mike, please," she whispered, "I can explain-"  
  
"Explain, huh?" he shouted, the anger spilling over. "What do you want to   
explain? There's nothing, do you hear me, nothing to explain. The pictures   
tell the story very clearly. What I want to know, Simone," he said, the pain   
almost consuming him, "is when you decided to make a fool of me. God, I was   
such a fool," he said again, and turned away from her in disgust, a hand   
combing wearily through his hair. He was 25 years old, but if someone had   
told him he was hundred, he would've believed it today.  
  
He hadn't thought of anything when he'd discovered the plain envelope on his   
desk. He hadn't even thought of anything after he'd opened it and looked at   
the pictures. He had almost laughed thinking it was some weirdo who wanted   
to make a bad joke, until he'd recognized the face of the woman. And   
although he hadn't liked seeing the woman he loved in bed with another man,   
and had liked it even less when he'd realized the man was Riley Finn, he   
already knew that Simone had had a life before him.  
  
She hadn't been a virgin when they'd met, but hell, neither was he, so there   
was nothing he could blame her for. Simone was a beautiful young woman and   
how could he blame a man that he wanted her too. For Mike she was the   
fulfillment of his dreams - or so he'd thought, until he'd seen the   
engagement ring she wore on the picture. The ring, he'd sold his Harley for.   
The ring he'd given her only four weeks ago.  
  
"Mike," he heard her standing up and hesitantly stepping towards him.   
Instantly his body went rigid and she stopped. "Can't we talk about this?"   
she pleaded. "I need to explain why-"  
  
"No," he said sharply. "I don't want to hear it, Simone. Or do you want to   
tell me it happened before we met?"  
  
"No," she whispered, wringing her hands, feeling cold allover. "It happened   
only a few days ago," she told him, feeling utterly miserable.  
  
"Well," he turned back to her, his face carefully blank, "at least you're   
honest. I have to give you that. Although I'm not sure if I care at all." He   
went for the door, when her panicked voice stopped him cold.  
  
"Mike, he blackmailed me," she cried, sinking down to the floor, her body   
racking with terrible sobs, "He blackmailed me," she whispered again,   
curling into a ball.  
  
Mike stared at her, and then slowly closed the door he'd just opened.   
Closing his eyes for a moment he swallowed pain and pride and kneeled down   
beside her.  
  
*****  
  
Same day, 6.00 p.m.  
  
Willow Rosenberg was a person who was usually content with her life. She'd   
grown up in suburban L.A. A single child of Jewish parents she'd always been   
bright, had breezed through high school and college, a promising career   
before her. Her parents had bragged about her intelligence and already seen   
her as a doctor of kinds, when, to her parents' horror, she'd suddenly and   
unexpectedly decided to join the LAPD.  
  
Unexpectedly for her parents at least, who had no idea that she was dating a   
non-Jewish boy who was extremely bright as well but whose family background   
was by far not the same as Willow's.  
  
His father had raised Oz after his mother had died when he was still little.   
His father was a good guy, but he was busy with his job that demanded for   
him to leave his home quite frequently and so Oz was more alone than   
anything else.  
  
He and Willow had met at college where they'd both joined a computer club.   
But quickly catching on that they were already in another league, they had   
decided to form their own advanced club with two members - Oz and Willow.   
And soon it was Oz and Willow all the time, not only at the computer, but   
everywhere else.  
  
They hadn't told Willow's parents, not because they didn't want to, more   
because it never came up. Mr. and Mrs. Rosenberg never asked and Willow   
never told and so when she announced she was going to marry her long time   
boyfriend they almost fainted. In the end they accepted it, but although   
they weren't living far away Willow and Oz saw them barely and as the   
redhead realized this very moment, they didn't even know they would be   
grandparents soon.  
  
Willow smiled and patted her still flat abdomen while she sighed in   
contentment, sipping at her green tea. She was sitting on the sofa in her   
living room, her feet on the table, the radio blaring in the background. It   
couldn't get much better in life.  
  
Yet, today Willow was not a happy woman.  
  
The reason was Buffy of course, or rather her absence.  
  
It was Willow's day off and she had used it to see her doctor, then for   
shopping and she had even found the sexiest teddy she would use in the near   
future to seduce her husband. A wicked little smile played on her lips at   
the thought.  
  
But she felt still itchy. And the reason was Buffy. Buffy hadn't called. Not   
once. Not the whole weekend. Willow had expected her to call on Friday, but   
then she'd assumed it might have been late. But Saturday and Sunday had   
gone by and still nothing.  
  
On Sunday afternoon Willow had finally called Faith but she hadn't heard   
anything either and the redhead began to worry. What if anything had gone   
wrong Friday night? Faith had only laughed at that and told her not to   
worry, but Willow couldn't shake off the feeling that something might have   
gone wrong. She tried Cordelia's office in the afternoon after she got home,   
but the brunette was in court and not expected to be in the rest of the day.  
  
So there she sat, with her legs propped on the table, the tea in her hand   
and was staring at the phone as if she could make it ring by her will alone.   
Of course it didn't ring. That would have been too much luck, Willow guessed   
and she had the feeling that this wasn't going to be her lucky day.  
  
She looked at her watch and sighed. Oz wouldn't be home before nine. He was   
with a client tonight, checking the computer-system of a building company.   
Recently they had more problems with virus alerts and now they'd hired Oz to   
find out what was wrong. The job was demanding, had long working hours but   
it couldn't be helped because it paid very well and they needed the money,   
especially now that they were expecting their first child.  
  
Willow had decided to work at the precinct as long as possible but there   
would be a point when she would have to stop and she hadn't decided yet if   
she wanted to continue working after the baby was born. If she didn't go   
back to work they would need every penny. Oz' business was still young. It   
was running well so far, but you never knew.  
  
Irritated with the way her thoughts were going she glanced at her watch   
again, then at the phone. It still wasn't ringing. Darn. Buffy still hadn't   
called and curiosity was killing her. She could almost hear Oz telling her   
that she would get all the news tomorrow at work, but that was still more   
than 12 hours away. An eternity if you were a concerned friend who had been   
doing her best to get two lost hearts back together.  
  
She should have called Buffy herself. The only problem was that she wasn't   
quite sure how the blond had taken the setup she and Faith had arranged at   
the Splash Friday night. And Willow wasn't looking forward to Buffy yelling   
angrily through the phone at the redhead for sticking her nose into things   
that weren't her business. On the other hand she had to face her friend   
sooner or later and maybe it would be easier on the phone. Especially if it   
hadn't worked out the way Willow hoped.  
  
With a slight frown on her forehead she finally reached for the phone.  
  
*****  
  
Angel sighed with relief when Riley finally pulled his car from the road and   
into the driveway of a neat little white suburban house. It had been a long   
drive from one end of L.A. to the other. The blond had stopped from time to   
time to get a smoke, some booze, then he'd driven to a fast food restaurant and   
returned five minutes later with a huge bag, emptying it while he was driving.  
  
"I wonder why he came here?" Spike said almost to himself, but Angel had   
just wanted to ask the same question. "I can't picture him around here."  
  
"You'd be surprised," his partner, replied, "We grew up only five minutes   
from here."  
  
The blond raised a brow, "You're a suburban boy, huh? Well, well, who   
would've guessed? Angel Reardon growing up in some neat little house with a   
neat little family."  
  
A bit irritated by his friend's comment Angel asked, "What's wrong with it?"  
  
"Nothing," Spike held up his hands in defense. "It wasn't meant as an   
insult. You just don't look like the neat-little-house-type. Maybe because   
we met in Manhattan and I thought you fit in perfectly. But then, the part   
of London I'm from isn't inner city either. Ever heard of Esher?"  
  
"No," the other man said, his eyes on Riley who was just climbing out of the   
car, stuffing the cigarettes in his back pocket and then taking two bottles   
of what seemed to be Whisky out of the car. "Seems he's got a date," he   
said, his attention suddenly on the little red sports car that was standing   
right in front of Riley's. He was sure he had seen it before, but somehow he   
wasn't able to make the connection. From the intent look on Spike's face his   
friend was thinking the same.  
  
They got their answer when the door of the house suddenly opened and a woman   
stepped outside, then nervously glanced around before she held out her arms   
for Riley and he went right in to them. They hugged, then she stepped back,   
pulled him with her and the door closed behind them.  
  
Angel and Spike both leaned back in their seats and some seconds ticked by   
before they turned their heads and looked at each other, one with a question in   
his eyes, the other with dawning understanding. A moment later Angel muttered a   
curse under his breath, jerked out his cell phone and dialled Cordelia Chase's   
number.  
  
*****  
  
same time, somewhere else in L.A.  
  
"Buffy?"  
  
"Hmmm?"  
  
Xander slowly turned his head to get a better view of his partner who was   
sitting in the passenger side seat, eyes closed, but obviously not asleep.   
He chuckled at the picture and popped some chocolate in his mouth.  
  
"In ten years all your teeth will fall out," Buffy remarked without opening   
her eyes. She knew her partner very well and didn't have to look to know   
what he was doing at the moment.  
  
He chuckled again and shrugged, "Yeah, well. Then I'll get artificial ones.   
They have a certain advantage. You can take them out before a fist-fight, so   
they won't get punched out."  
  
One eye cracked open, "A fist fight? Xander, the last fistfight you were   
involved was 20 years ago in high school. And I can't remember you losing a   
tooth."  
  
"A guy always needs an excuse," he replied grinning happily, stuffing more   
chocolate in his mouth.  
  
"You know," Buffy said, straightening in her seat, "You and Spike will be   
the perfect pair. Angel said his car is littered with empty chips bags and   
cans of soda. This Internal Investigation is a gift from heaven for the two   
of you."  
  
"And you're certainly completely devastated that you have to spend your time   
with Angel, am I right?" he shot back, a mischievous glimpse in his eyes. He   
saw that she was about to reply and held up a hand, "No. I'm glad, I really am.   
I know I never really liked the guy, but that's just my big brother   
attitude. Putting it aside, I think Angel's a good guy. And you deserve   
whatever you wish for after what Riley put you through."  
  
Her head jerked around, "What do you mean?" she asked, suddenly alarmed. Had   
anyone told him about the other night? Maybe Cordelia, she thought. She and   
Xander had once been high school sweethearts. But would Cordelia-  
  
"What do I mean?" he interrupted her thoughts, "Well, let's think about it.   
Do the words adultery and violence ring a bell?" He was clearly irritated.   
Did she think he would ever forget what Riley Finn had done?  
  
Buffy released a breath of relief, "Oh that," she said almost carelessly.  
  
Xander narrowed his eyes, "Oh that? What do you mean, oh that? I think   
that's enough. If you ask me, you waited way too long to dump him. And you   
should let him bleed."  
  
"Xander, Riley doesn't have a lot of what you call 'blood'," she emphasized   
the last word. "He doesn't have a rich background. Neither do we, if I may   
remind you. But if you want to know if I'm going to get what he owes me, the   
answer is, yes."  
  
"Good," he replied with a single nod and took a large gulp from his drink.   
"You know-," he never got to say what he wanted when both their cells   
started to ring went off. They exchanged a quick glance, and then unison   
reached for their phones.  
  
*****  
  
"Eunice, calm down," Riley said to the almost hysterical woman. She was   
pacing through the living room of the house he'd just entered. She was   
petite, almost fragile, her skin lucid like expensive porcelain doll, and   
shining dark hair. In the artificial light of the lamp she looked almost   
like a fairy, a very agitated, nervous fairy.  
  
Eunice stopped her pacing and bit her thumbnail, "Calm down?" she echoed and   
frowned. "I can't calm down. What if he finds me?" she asked. "God, he found   
me before. How do you know it'll be different this time?"  
  
"Because I made sure he didn't," he replied trying to approach her. But she   
held her hands in front of her body and he stopped instantly. "Nikki,   
please," he said using her nickname. "You don't need to worry. I'm expecting   
a lot of money tomorrow and then you'll be on your way to a place where   
he'll never find you."  
  
Tears filled her eyes and her lips began to tremble, "It sounds wonderful,"   
her voice quivered, "Oh, Ri, I'm so afraid."  
  
With two steps he was with her and pulled her in his arms, "Shhhh," he   
crooned. "Don't be afraid. I'm here now. I'm here now. I promise, he won't   
hurt you again. Never again."  
  
They both almost jumped out of their skins when suddenly the doorbell rang.   
Eunice pulled away from him, her eyes widened in panic, "Oh God. He's found   
me. Oh God-"  
  
"Stop that," Riley almost shouted. "Do you really think Pedro would ring a   
bell, if it was him? Think rationally, Nikki."  
  
"I-," she stopped and her panic subsided slightly, "You're right. But... Oh   
God, you have no idea what he'd do with me if he found me."  
  
"Oh, I think I do," he replied, taking a deep breath. "You stay here, I'm   
going to see who's there. Probably some Jehovah's witness." Assuring himself   
with a last look that she was holding up - even if just barely - he turned   
and went for the door. He gasped when he saw who was standing right in front   
of him, "Angel? Spike?"  
  
"Yeah, it's us," Angel retorted, not waiting to get invited, instead pushing   
the surprised detective aside and entering the house, Spike in his tow.   
Ignoring Riley completely, he proceeded to the living room and when his eyes   
fell on the woman there, he raised a brow, "Hello, Nikki," he said, "Nice to   
see you again."  
  
The woman whirled around, "Angel," she whispered breathlessly, her confused   
eyes darting to Riley. "What's going on?" she wanted to know.  
  
"Good question," Angel said. Crossing his arms he turned towards Riley, "And   
I'd really like to hear the answer. And you'll better tell us soon."  
  
"What the hell are you doing here?" Riley asked, not willing to play the   
defensive part, "Are you following me around?"  
  
"As a matter of fact, yes," Spike said, smiling slightly.  
  
Riley frowned at that, and then incredulously asked, "You were really   
following me? Why the hell did you do that?"  
  
"Because it's what we do," Angel answered, "It's the job we're paid for."  
  
"You are paid to follow me?" Riley still didn't understand, then it hit him,   
"You're working for Internal Affairs. I can't believe it," he shook his   
head, chuckled, "But I should've known. From the moment Giles told us you   
were coming back I had a bad feeling. But why are you following me? And why   
Internal Affairs?" he wanted to know, honestly surprised. "Is there a dirty   
cop running around?"  
  
"That's what I wanted to ask you," Angel said casually. "Is there one?"  
  
"You-" Riley was speechless for a moment, then ran a hand through his short   
hair, "You think I'm the dirty cop?"  
  
"You have to admit, you're behaving a bit suspicious these days," Spike   
said, glancing at the nervous woman who was biting her lower lip at the   
moment. "And I would really like to be introduced to this beauty here," he   
added.  
  
"What?" with an irritated frown Angel looked at him. "Oh. Sorry," he said as   
if remembering the woman's presence again, "Spike, this is Eunice Montez.   
The name should ring a bell," he told his friend, "Her husband is Pedro   
Montez."  
  
"Pedro Montez, the drug lord?" Spike asked suprised, things suddenly making   
sense to him, others however... "And why is she here?"  
  
"She is Montez's wife," Angel replied, "but she is also Riley's sister."  
  
"His sis- Bloody Hell," his friend cursed under his breath. "And why didn't   
anyone care to tell me that?" he demanded.  
  
"Because she left the States 20 years ago when she married Montez," Angel   
explained. "As far as I knew Riley broke off any contact when she married   
the man," he turned to look at his former friend, who nodded.  
  
"That's right," Riley confirmed. "We didn't see each other for over 19   
years. We didn't talk. Nothing."  
  
"Riley, no," Eunice pleaded.  
  
"It's no use, Nikki," he said. "They need to know. You know Angel, he won't   
leave until he knows the truth."  
  
Spike raised a brow in surprise. This was a Riley he hadn't seen before. Was   
he protecting his sister? That was something Spike could relate to.  
  
Eunice looked back and forth between the three men, and then finally   
released a sharp breath. "Alright," she began, "It all started ten months   
ago. Pedro - that's my husband," she said, looking at Spike. "I'm older than   
Riley. By five years. I'm his half-sister. My father was never married to my   
mother. But I came to stay with my father's new family from time to time.   
That's how I met Angel too."  
  
She combed shaky fingers through her hair. "I fell in love with Pedro when I   
was eighteen. He was so handsome, so," she fought with tears that were   
threatening to spill over. "My family was furious. He was from Colombia and   
there were rumors that he wasn't what he seemed to be. But I was young and   
in love and so we ran away. Married in Vegas. And it was good - at first. He   
seemed to love me too. Then when I got older I began to ask questions and he   
didn't like it.  
  
"I tried to leave him. More than once. But he is very... old-fashioned.   
Divorce isn't a word in his dictionary and so he threatened me. We have two   
children. But they're grown up now. They can be on their own. Ten months ago   
I managed to get a letter through to Riley. Pedro was planning to visit the   
States to meet with a partner in Miami. And he wanted me to come with him.   
Show off his pretty wife, if you understand."  
  
"I can follow," Spike said, his face grim.  
  
She smiled slightly, a sad, hopeless smile, "One night I just ran away. And   
I called Riley again, hoping against hope that he'd help me." She turned   
towards her half-brother, her smile suddenly warm and loving, "And he did.   
He picked me up and hid me. Over the last few months I've been to so many   
places I don't remember. Pedro is still searching for me. You have no idea   
what he's going to do if he finds me."  
  
"I see," Angel said after listening to her story. He gave Eunice a smile,   
she returned hesitantly. They had spent good times together in their youth   
and they were both remembering it now. "So that's your connection with   
Simone Chambers," he said turning back to Riley. "You are blackmailing her   
for money, aren't you?"  
  
Riley stared at him for a moment, ready to deny it, but realizing that it   
was useless, "Yeah," he admitted on a released breath. "I found out things   
about her father. Things that... could get him into jail and she was willing   
to pay for them."  
  
"You mean instead of reporting him, of doing the things you should've done,"   
Spike remarked, "you used that knowledge for yourself?"  
  
"He did it to help me," Eunice pleaded her brother's case. "You don't know   
Pedro, you have no idea what he'd do to me if he found me."  
  
"Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea," Spike replied, not giving an inch.  
  
"I think you have absolutely no idea," Eunice retorted, her voice suddenly   
cold as ice, "I've seen him do things, you wouldn't believe in your worst   
nightmares. He's a man without a conscience. He feels like a king and he   
acts like one. And I mean that in the worst sense."  
  
"Nikki," Angel said gently, putting a hand on her arm, "I know you're   
afraid-"  
  
"Afraid," she echoed, shaking off his arm, "I'm not afraid. Angel, I stopped   
being afraid a long time ago. I'm terrified. Pedro is a monster. I know my   
children are safe from him because his family honor would never allow him to   
hurt them. But I'm a traitor in his eyes. I embarrassed him by running away.   
There will be no mercy if he finds me."  
  
Angel took a deep breath and exchanged a glance with Spike. Then he turned   
back to Eunice, "I'm sorry for all this, Nikki."  
  
"Then help me," she pleaded.  
  
"I can't. Not in the way you want it."  
  
"Angel," Riley interrupted, "It's only one day. Give me one day and Nikki   
will be gone. Then I'm going to turn myself in. God knows there's a lot more   
I have to sorry for."  
  
The dark-haired man's face hardened instantly, and his thoughts went to   
Buffy for a moment, "Yeah," he agreed. "There is." Something flickered   
through Riley's eyes but it was gone too quickly to identify it. Was it   
shame? Was it guilt? Even regret? Angel couldn't be sure.  
  
"So you will give us 24 hours?" Riley asked hopefully.  
  
"I can't do that," Angel replied. A soft sob came from behind him and he   
knew that Eunice had started crying. "Riley, you know I can't let this   
happen. You blackmailed another person. You're a cop for God's sake, doesn't   
that mean anything to you?"  
  
The blond looked at his former best friend for a long moment, before he   
said, "If it means any- I was desperate, Angel. Desperate people tend to do   
crazy things. I tried, you know. I tried to get the money. I used everything   
I inherited. I took out a loan, but my wife's divorcing me and in California   
that doesn't get banks jumping at the opportunity to trust you with their   
money. Pedro will kill her, Angel. I couldn't let that happen."  
  
"I understand that," the dark-haired man said gently, "But what I can't   
understand is what you did to help her. You blackmailed Simone Chambers. You   
had proof that would probably get her father arrested and you used it for   
your own purpose. I can't act as if it never happened. Why didn't you   
contact the FBI?" he asked. "They would've helped you. Maybe she knows   
things about her husband. It would give them a reason to take her in   
protective custody, maybe give her a new identity. There's always another   
way, Riley."  
  
"So this ends here, huh?" the blond said, a myriad of emotions playing on   
his face.  
  
"Yes," Angel confirmed. "It ends here. Give me your weapon, Riley. I promise   
I'll look after Eunice." He held out his hand, waiting for his former friend   
to hand him his gun.  
  
"Oh God," Eunice sobbed behind them and Spike and Angel were distracted only   
for a moment. It was enough for Riley to draw his weapon and direct it   
towards the other officers.  
  
"Don't do this, Riley," Angel said quietly, when he saw the gun.  
  
"I have no choice," the blond said, desperation clearly audible in his   
voice. "This is my sister we're talking about. I have absolutely no choice."  
  
"We won't let you leave this house," Spike told him very calmly.  
  
"Then you'll probably die today," Riley replied. "And I'm sure you don't   
want that. So you'll better stay away. Come on Nikki," he told his sister.  
  
Eunice glanced quickly at Angel and Spike, and then rushed to her brother's   
side. "I'm sorry," she whispered.  
  
"Riley, please don't do this," Angel tried one last time.  
  
"Sorry," the blond shrugged, "I have to."  
  
*****  
  
"God, drive faster," Buffy demanded, "Drive faster, Xand. Something's wrong.   
I know something's wrong. I can feel it." She was nervously chewing on her   
lower lip.  
  
"I'm driving as fast as I can," Xander replied, not taking his eyes from the   
traffic. The last thing they needed were an accident to slow them even more   
down than L.A. traffic did. "Buff, don't worry. Angel and Spike are good at   
what they do. They can take care of themselves."  
  
"I know," she said. "But this is a weird situation. This is about Riley.   
There are so many unfinished things between them. Angel and Riley, I mean.   
This is much more than just a simple problem." She thought for a moment, "We   
could use the siren."  
  
"Buffy, they only informed Cordelia that they needed to confront Riley. They   
never even requested support. It was Cordelia who said we should go there,   
so we knew what was going on. There isn't an emergency."  
  
"Maybe not, but I still have a bad feeling."  
  
Xander chuckled slightly at that. He remembered all the bad feelings Buffy   
had when she and Angel were first dating four years ago. He could understand   
that she was worried about him. Anya was constantly worried when he left in   
the morning. But so far, nothing had happened.  
  
But then the speaker in their car came to life and the voice that came   
through made their blood freeze in their veins. Without another word, Xander   
pulled out the light and put in on top of their car, the sirens howling,   
while he floored the accelerator and the car shot through the traffic. He   
looked to his side. Buffy was white as a sheet, all blood drained from her   
pretty face, her eyes huge with fear, she was trembling all over and the   
voice from the speaker asked, "Did you hear, 633, there's an emergency,   
detective Stevens just reported officer down. Please confirm message,   
officer down."  
  
With a last glance on Buffy, Xander pulled the micro to his mouth,   
"Confirming," he said, "We're almost there. Is it bad?"  
  
"Sorry, Detective Harris, Detective Stevens didn't say that. But I suppose   
as he wanted us to send for medical help."  
  
"Thanks, officer," Xander said, breaking the connection. "He'll be okay," he   
tried to assure Buffy.  
  
"You don't know that," she replied, her voice hollow, hopeless. "Oh God,   
Xand. What am I going to do if he-" her voice broke and she hugged herself   
tightly.  
  
"He won't," Xander's voice was firm. "Do you understand? We don't even know   
if it's Angel."  
  
"Xander, Spike called in. Whom do you think he was talking about?" she   
cried. "And now stop talking. Drive. Oh God," she yelled, "Drive."  
  
*****  
  
There were other police cars on the scene already when Xander brought his to   
a screeching halt in front of the small suburban house. A uniformed officer   
was busy applying tape around the crime scene.  
  
Even before the car stopped completely, Buffy jumped out and ran for the   
house. Pushing everyone in the way aside, she stormed through the door,   
shouting Angel's name. She had to expected him lying there, in his blood,   
maybe on the brink of dying, but she was completely unprepared for the scene that   
met her eyes.  
  
Angel was sitting on the ground, Riley's head in his lap, while Spike stood   
with two other detectives asking them to call the FBI. A woman she didn't   
know was kneeling by Angel's side.  
  
Sensing the commotion at the door Angel looked up and his eyes instantly   
locked with Buffy's who gasped in shock. He was holding Riley, and from a   
hole in her husband's chest came a constant stream of blood. Angel had   
obviously tried to apply pressure by using his shirt, because there was   
something unidentifiable, soaked with blood and Angel was bare-chested.   
Buffy's eyes flew to Spike, who looked at her the moment he became aware of   
her presence. He shook his head slightly, indicating her without words that   
Riley wouldn't make it.  
  
Buffy kneeled down beside Angel and her eyes found his again. They communicated   
silently over Riley's dying form and there was pure love in their eyes.  
  
Suddenly Riley's head moved in Angel's lap and his eyelids fluttered,   
"Angel," he whispered, then his eyes fell on his wife, "Buffy," he said and   
smiled. "Good to see you. I'm sorry." He coughed and felt the sharp pain in   
his chest.  
  
She closed her eyes for a moment, and then nodded, "I know," she replied,   
giving him a smile. "I know you didn't want to hurt me, Riley."  
  
"No," he shook his head, another cough wracking his body, and he tasted   
blood in his mouth. He was really going to die today, he thought. He   
should've known from the expression on the faces that were looking down on   
him. "No, that's - that's not what I mean," he whispered. "Although I'm   
sorry for that too." He chuckled slightly and it hurt. "I'm sorry for so   
many things, I don't even know where to begin."  
  
"Don't talk Riley," Angel's voice sounded strained. "You're going to need   
your strength."  
  
"No need to lie, Angel," Riley replied, chuckling again. "I don't have a lot   
of time left, so I better get started admitting my sins."  
  
"Oh God, Riley," Eunice sobbed, her trembling hands brushing her brother's   
hair from his forehead, her eyes resting on him lovingly.  
  
"Riley-" Angel tried.  
  
"No," he interrupted the dark-haired man. "There's a lot I need to say. I   
killed Mike," he said without warning.  
  
Angel's eyes widened, while Buffy let out a gasp, "Wha - What did you say?"   
she demanded.  
  
"I killed him. I shot your brother."  
  
"You..." Buffy stared at him, obviously not able to digest the revelation.   
"You killed Mike?" she whispered brokenly. "Oh my God."  
  
"God, Buffy," Riley cried, hot tears falling down his cheeks, "I didn't do   
it deliberately. I never... It almost killed me when I read the report, when   
I read with my own eyes that only three bullets were missing from Angel's   
weapon. I thought the whole chamber had been empty. But then..." he shook   
his head, the pain and torture in his eyes almost taking her breath away.  
  
"I used Angel's weapon that evening. But I never... Then two years later I   
came across the report. And reading it I remembered. I must have suppressed   
it. I read it up. They call it suppressive amnesia. I was aiming for one of   
the bank robbers at the window and without warning Mike was suddenly right   
in my line of fire. I shot him. Then I accused Angel, married you. But I   
swear by God, I didn't know. I didn't remember."  
  
"I believe you," Buffy whispered, her eyes searching Angel's again and she   
found the same sadness in them.  
  
"After... After I knew what I'd done. I..." he shook his head again, another   
cough wracking through his body.  
  
"Riley, why didn't you tell them," Angel wanted to know. "You didn't kill   
him. It was an accident." He looked down at the blond whose cheeks were wet   
with tears and in whose eyes was nothing but despair.  
  
"Tell them?" Riley said almost incredulously. "She would've left me," he   
cried, turning his head back to Buffy. "You would've left me. I saw the way   
you reacted when you thought it was Angel. And you loved him. You never   
loved me."  
  
"Riley-" she tried to protest, but he interrupted her.  
  
"No need to lie, Buffy. I knew it. Right from the start. But I loved you.   
You were the love of my life and... I had the irrational thought I could   
make you love me back. But you can't people force to love you. Two years ago   
I couldn't face that. So I didn't tell you and you didn't leave me. But I...   
felt unworthy to be at your side... so I... did everything to make you hate   
me and it... worked," he chuckled again. An unhappy sound.  
  
"Riley." Angel had no idea what to say. He knew nothing he could say   
would be what Riley needed. His former friend needed to forgive himself, and   
Angel wasn't sure if he was able to do that. Again images of Riley laughing   
with him, of Riley joking, them together playing football, flashed through   
his mind, and he felt a lump forming in his throat, "I'm sorry," he   
whispered.  
  
"Yeah, I know," shook his head, "I know you are, although you have no reason   
to be. You're a much better person than I ever was. I envied you... God, I   
was so jealous."  
  
"Why?" Angel wanted to know. "You were my best friend. My best and most   
trusted friend. Why did you have a reason to be jealous?"  
  
A smile that was somewhere between sadness and bitterness crossed the   
blonde's features, "You're still oblivious, aren't you? You have no idea,   
Angel, how it feels to grow up in another man's shadow."  
  
"But I never-"  
  
Now Riley laughed, but it was not a happy sound, "I know that. You never saw   
it that way, but then you were the shadow I was growing up in. You might not   
believe it, not even now, but it was that way nevertheless."  
  
"I never saw anything in you but my friend," the dark-haired man insisted.  
  
"Yeah. A friend." Riley nodded almost to himself. "But you were always   
number one. Can you imagine how often my father said he wished I was like   
you? How disappointed he was in me? I was a loser."  
  
"You never were-"  
  
"But you see, that's exactly the point. I was a loser. In his eyes I was and   
what happened over the last four years proved it. And my father admired you.   
You were the quarterback of our high school team, then again in college. You   
got two scholarships for college. Your parents couldn't stop telling mine   
about their great son. And all I managed to be was your friend. Did I ever   
tell you that the first girl I slept with in college went to bed with me   
because she couldn't have you?"  
  
"Oh Riley," Angel said helplessly.  
  
"Yeah, what did I say? I'm the loser," he chuckled again, softly this time.   
The gunshot wound didn't hurt anymore and he remembered that fatal   
wounds never did. "She always loved you," he said, suddenly changing the   
subject. "I lost there too. I fell in love with the same woman and she   
never, not once, stopped loving you. And I knew it. That's when I really   
started hating you. You don't have to tell me how irrational that is, but...   
I couldn't stop it."  
  
"I'm sorry," Angel said again. And he was. For the loss of a man who had   
once been his best friend. And for the man who was lying in his lap, and who   
had lost himself by wallowing in self-pity and nursing his jealousy.  
  
"Yeah, I'm sorry too. For more than you can imagine." He was getting weaker   
by the second and he could almost feel his life slip away. "Nikki. I'm   
sorry," he whispered, "I can't keep my promise."  
  
"Oh Riley," his sister cried softly, "I love you. Without you I wouldn't   
have been able to leave him."  
  
"I love you too," he replied, then grabbed Angel's hand urgently, "I know I   
have no right to ask anything from you, but please take care of her. She   
needs... help. She told the... truth... Pedro is... dangerous."  
  
"I know. I promise, Riley. I'll help her."  
  
The blond smiled, released a breath of relief. "Good," he said, his eyes   
already clouded over, but nevertheless searching for Buffy. "I love you," he   
whispered. "I... always... sorry..." A shiver ran through his body, then   
suddenly his eyes became unfocussed, unseeing, and his form went slack in   
Angel's arms.  
  
*  
  
"Angel, Spike," Cordelia shouted pushing past the police officers who were   
standing in the doorway. She released a breath she hadn't even noticed she'd   
been holding when she saw the two detectives standing and obviously   
unharmed, but a frown appeared on her face seeing them each holding a woman   
in their arms. It was not so surprising to see Angel holding Buffy, but she   
didn't know the other one.  
  
Her eyes fell on the paramedics who were busy covering a body on the ground.   
"What happened?" she asked.  
  
Slowly Angel raised his head, "Riley's dead," he said and a sob came from   
the woman in Spike's arms. "This," he indicated the woman, "is Eunice   
Montez. She's Riley's sister. And Pedro Montez' wife."  
  
"Oh," was all Cordelia replied. Riley's sister was Pedro Montez' wife.  
Interesting. "Still, I need to know what happened."  
  
"Riley tried to leave with his sister," Spike explained, knowing how hard it   
was for Angel or Buffy to talk about it. "Eunice here," he gave the woman in   
his arms a quick smile, "wants to leave her husband, but it seems he isn't   
taking it too well. So Riley tried to help her and in order to do that he   
blackmailed Simone Chambers. Angel tried to persuade him to talk to the FBI, but   
he wouldn't have it. He pulled his gun and wanted to leave with his sister. Of   
course we couldn't let him do that."  
  
"And so you shot him?" Cordelia asked incredulously.  
  
"No," Spike slowly shook his head. "And that's where the story gets really   
interesting. Riley opened the door and wham he went down. While Angel took   
care of him and Eunice, I tried to find the killer. But he was gone. Or   
maybe he used a long distance weapon. I have no idea. We'll have to wait for   
the coroner's report, I guess."  
  
"Are you telling me that someone shot Riley, while he was about to leave the   
house?" Cordelia needed to be absolutely sure she had heard right.  
  
"Yes, that's what we're telling you," Angel confirmed, holding Buffy close.   
She was completely shaken. First she had been consumed by fear it was Angel   
who was shot him and then Riley's revelations had done the rest. "Cordelia,   
I need to get Buffy home. Riley told us a lot before he died." He stroked   
Buffy's back and kissed her skull, "He shot Mike."  
  
The brunette gasped, "He, what?"  
  
"It was an accident. But it ate him up. Can we talk about this later? Buffy   
needs some rest."  
  
"Yes, yes, of course, take her home," she replied instantly and watched them   
leave, Angel carrying the blonde more than she was walking. Then she ran a   
hand through her hair, "God, this... this is..."  
  
"Yeah, I know," Spike agreed, still holding Eunice. "Pretty heavy. I   
contacted the FBI," he explained. "They'll take care of her."  
  
"Good," Cordelia nodded in agreement. "He really shot Mike?" she asked.  
  
"Yeah," the blond nodded as well. "I thought Buffy would faint. She's going   
to need a while to get over this."  
  
The brunette wanted to answer, but two FBI agents entered the house and   
after a little conversation with Cordelia, Eunice and Spike they agreed that   
Riley's sister was in need of protective custody. As soon as they had left,   
the assistant DA put a hand on Spike's arm. "What do you think about a cup   
of coffee? I need one and you could tell everything what happened here. I   
have a feeling it's quite a lot."  
  
Spike grinned for the first time, "I would never refuse the invitation of a   
pretty woman," he said and made her smile. "Come on, Miss Chase, let's   
talk."  
  
****  
  
"Buffy," Angel said softly after he had closed the door of her apartment   
behind them.  
  
"Yeah," she replied, without looking up, without really paying attention.  
  
"I want you to lie down."  
  
"No," she shook her head, giving him a smile that almost broke his heart, "I   
can't lie down. Riley just died. I need to organize things." She nodded to   
herself, "Yes, I'm sure there are things to be done. I'm still his wife, you   
know, I need-"  
  
"You need to lie down," he told her gently but firmly. When she didn't   
react, he took the matters in his own hands by scooping her up in his arms.   
Glad she didn't protest, he carried her into her bedroom and gently put her   
down there. "Stay here. I'm just going to get you a cup of tea. I'll be back   
in a minute. Okay?"  
  
She nodded but didn't look at him. He was sure she was still in shock and he   
hurried to make some tea and a sandwich for her, although he was almost   
certain she wouldn't eat one bite. Returning to her room he found her in the   
same place he had left her, staring at the ceiling, her eyes dry and   
incredibly sad.  
  
"Here," he said softly, sat down on the edge and held the tea towards her   
direction. Her eyes focused slowly on him and in autopilot she took the cup   
and drank a large gulp. He winced seeing her drinking the hot brew like   
that, but she didn't even seem to notice. "Easy," he said, taking the cup   
back. "Do you want anything to eat?"  
  
She shook her head, but didn't lay back. Instead she was looking at him. "He   
killed Mike," she said, and each word seemed to hurt her throat. "He killed   
my brother and I let him touch me. I married him. I hurt you and sent you   
away and all the time it was him-" her voice broke and she squeezed her eyes   
shut. "Oh Angel," she whispered.  
  
Angel wanted to touch her. He was dying to taker her into his arms and hold her,   
to try to soothe her, calm her down. But for the moment she'd set up this   
invisible boundary around herself and now she even crossed her arms, and he   
didn't want to trespas over the line. They had kissed just once, but in no way   
they had established what sort of relationship they were in.   
  
She frowned, "I even enjoyed him touching me. For a while. It was fun. And he was   
touching me with those hands. The same hands that held the gun." Her voice was   
flat, and she began to shiver.  
  
"Buffy, stop," Angel pleaded. "Don't do this to yourself. You had no was of   
knowing what was going on."  
  
"No I couldn't," she admitted, and looked at him searchingly, eager to find the   
prove for the honesty in his words in his eyes. Sh reached for him then. She   
unwound her arms and reached out for him, giving him the permission to take her   
in his own arms.  
  
The next moment he held her tightly and after only a second hers came   
around his neck. "He was messed up, Buffy," he was whispering too, trying to   
explain where there was no explanation. How did you explain when a person   
had lost himself? "He was eaten up by jealousy. But I'm sure he loved you.   
And when he found out it was him who killed Mike he couldn't bear it. I'm   
not trying to find an apology, because there is none. But I can understand   
what was happening to him. And I'm absolutely sure he loved you."  
  
"I want to believe it," she cried into his neck. "I want to believe that he   
killed Mike by accident, and that he didn't remember when we married, but at   
the moment I feel so... so..."  
  
"I know," he replied, "I know. Nobody expects you to forgive him. God knows   
I can't. Not now. Maybe never." He took a deep breath, "Do you want me to   
stay?"  
  
"Yes," she said, tightening her hold on his neck. "I don't want to be alone.   
Stay with me."  
  
"As long as you want me," he whispered and lay down beside her. With their hands   
entwined they fell asleep.  
  
... to be continued 


	8. Chapter 8

Unforgettable - Part 8  
By Jill  
  
Monday, September 4th, 6.00 p.m. Los Angeles  
  
It was quiet in Buffy's apartment, now that she and Angel were sitting on   
her sofa in the living room, her head resting on his shoulder, her eyes   
closed. The week had gone by in a blur.  
  
The FBI had taken Eunice Montez into protective custody and they would   
provide her with a new identity as soon as possible. In return Eunice would   
give all information she had, and regarding the fact that she'd been living   
more than 20 years with one of the most wanted drug dealers in South   
America, it was quite a lot. Actually the FBI could hardly believe their   
luck and were only too willing to help Eunice in any way possible.  
  
The coroner had confirmed their suspicion that Riley had been shot with a   
wide-range weapon and so they had no idea who the killer could be. The whole   
department was investigating his murder but so far they had only pulled   
blanks. The news that Riley had shot Mike had spread rapidly and to spare   
Buffy the whisper behind her back and the curious looks, Giles had given her   
several days off.  
  
Buffy was grateful for it. There was a lot to do regarding Riley's funeral,   
because although they'd been in the process of a divorce and were not living   
with each other anymore, legally she was still his wife and responsible for   
all the things that had to be done. Angel was by her side the whole time,   
helping her whenever she needed him, taking care of formalities, or just   
cooking dinner for her.  
  
Riley's funeral had been a quiet affair. His brother, Connor, came with his   
family and with the help of the FBI they even arranged for Connor to meet   
his sister Eunice for a while. A lot of cops attended Riley's funeral. The   
fact that he was responsible for the death of Buffy's brother didn't present   
a problem. Nobody doubted the words of a dying man that it had been an   
accident and so the file of Mike Danicki was officially closed.  
  
"It's the first time in a week that I have the feeling that I'm able to   
breathe." Buffy looked up and her eyes met Angel's, "The whole week was   
so... unreal," she shook her head, "I don't know. I still can't believe he's   
dead. Just like that," she snapped her fingers.  
  
"I know," he replied quietly, reaching out and taking her hand. "There's so   
much I can't quite grasp. He killed Mike. It's so... strange. I didn't   
suspect him. Not for a second. When Mike went down that night, I was sure it   
had been one of the bank robbers. Then when the report came, telling us it   
was my weapon..." he trailed off and shook his head. He had still trouble   
understanding what had happened. All the things Riley had said to him before   
he had died. About his permanent jealousy. When had it started, Angel   
wondered. When had friendship changed into something ugly?  
  
"Maybe I should feel sorry for him," Buffy mused, frowning slightly, "Maybe   
I should, but I can't. He did so many terrible things. And I am not talking   
about Mike. I can believe that was an accident. And I can even believe he   
suppressed what he knew, that happens, I've seen it more than once. But   
later. When he found out about Mike. He lied to me, Angel. He didn't even   
try to tell me."  
  
He was quiet for a long time, and then suddenly said, "I wonder-" but broke   
off again.  
  
"You wonder, what?" she probed.  
  
"You remember the day when he gave you Mike's file," it wasn't really a   
question. Angel didn't doubt for a moment that Buffy remembered the day.  
  
"Yeah, sure. Why?"  
  
"I wonder if he wanted you to read it. Maybe he... maybe he wanted you to   
know," he shook his head and released a long breath and ran a hand through   
his hair, then over his face. "God, Riley was so screwed up. Maybe I'm just   
trying to find the good in him. I don't know. Maybe a part of me just   
refuses to see him for what he was."  
  
"But that's just the point," she replied, reaching for the coffee cup on the   
table, "Who was he? I think I've asked myself that question a million times   
this week. And you know what? I still don't have the right answer. Maybe   
we'll never know."  
  
Angel was about to say something when the doorbell rang. He wanted to get   
up, but Buffy shook her head and went herself. She smiled when she saw her   
visitor, "Connor, come in," she invited. "It's good to see you. We barely   
had a minute to talk."  
  
"That's the reason I came. Lenore, the kids and I, we're going to fly back   
to Washington tomorrow morning. And... well, I thought we should talk." He   
followed her to the living room and when he spotted Angel, he smiled as   
well, "Angel, so good to see you," he said and the two men hugged. "Although   
I wish..."  
  
"I know," Angel replied with a nod. "I wish the same. Never in a million   
years I would've pictured our meeting like this."  
  
"No," Connor agreed. "And there's something I need to say first. Angel, I   
had no idea what was going on when Riley married Buffy. I'm sorry I nearly   
threw you out of the church that afternoon."  
  
Angel chuckled slightly when Buffy gasped, "You did, what?"  
  
Connor had to smile, "I... well, I saw him coming from your room that   
afternoon and... we had a fight. Not with fists, but I shouted at him and -"  
  
"Connor," Angel interrupted him, "Forget it, will you. It's so long ago. It   
seems unreal today."  
  
"Yes it does, doesn't it," Riley's brother said with a slight shake of his   
head. "He changed so much the last two years. I had no idea what happened,"   
he laughed harshly, "Well, now we all know. He killed a man and couldn't   
live with it."  
  
"He didn't actually kill him in the strictest sense," Buffy said placing a   
cup of coffee in front of Connor.  
  
"I know that," he replied. "I just..." he shook his head again, "I'm just   
having a hard time digesting all this. I talked to your lieutenant this   
morning and he told me a lot of things. He said that Riley was blackmailing   
a woman. He even," his face contorted in disgust, "forced her to have...   
God, I can't say it. It's too disgusting."  
  
"Don't," Buffy put a hand over Connor's. "Don't torture yourself by seeing   
only the bad things he did. I did that too and it's not good. Try to think   
about the times when he made a joke, when you laughed together."  
  
"How can you be so... so forgiving?" Conner asked, in utter shock.  
  
"I'm not. Riley did many terrible things. Some of them to me. But he's dead.   
And it's of no use to dwell on it. And about the blackmailing. Yes, it was   
wrong, but at least he did it for Eunice. He tried to help her."  
  
"She's right," Angel said, giving Riley's brother a warm smile. "I had a lot   
of good times with him and I'd prefer to remember them."  
  
"He called me," Connor said suddenly, "About a week ago he called me in my   
office. I hadn't heard from him in over a year. I tried to call him, but he   
never answered his phone, never returned my calls. And suddenly he did. He   
was stone drunk. I think he didn't even remember afterwards that he called   
me at all." Frowning he ran a finger over the handle of his cup. Not looking   
up he said, "He told me, he tried to rape you. And he cried."  
  
"Connor-" Buffy tried to say, but he held up a hand.  
  
"No, don't. I don't want to hear any excuses. And from the way you're   
looking at me, I know it's true. What I want to know is, why he became what   
he was in the end? He was my brother, Buffy. I knew him better than anyone   
else, maybe even better than Angel, and all of a sudden I feel as if I   
didn't know him at all. And I find myself asking, how was this possible."  
  
"We tried to find an answer just before you came," Angel said and shrugged,   
"We haven't found one."  
  
Connor laughed shortly, "Really comforting. I..." again he shook his head,   
"He loved you," he said, looking at Buffy. "The only thing I am absolutely   
certain of is that he loved you. I've never seen him happier than on the day   
you became his wife. The fact that he let you slip away from him shows me   
that he was really messed up."  
  
He suddenly shook his upper body as if to get rid of all the grief and pain   
and straightened on the chair, then reached in his pocket and produced a   
sealed envelope. "This is for you both," he said handing it to Buffy and   
Angel. "It was in a box he sent to me the day before he died. I have no idea   
what's in it." All of a sudden he stood and the others did as well. "And   
anyways. I need to go. I promised my kids to read them a story tonight. And   
if I've learned anything from all this, then it's to never take another   
person for granted. Tomorrow it could be too late already."  
  
"Thanks for coming, Connor," Buffy said and hugged him. "You have a lovely   
wife and beautiful children. You're a lucky man."  
  
"Yeah," he nodded, "I suppose I am. Angel," he turned towards his brother's   
long-time friend. "I know he envied you. But he loved you too. Don't believe   
that he wasn't your friend. Because he was."  
  
"I know that, Connor. And I want to remember that."  
  
The two men embraced for a short moment, then exchanged a long look that   
spoke more than any words. With a last nod, he opened and door and slipped   
from the apartment.  
  
Buffy and Angel stood there for a moment, just looking at each other, then   
without a word they went back to the living-room and she took the envelope   
and ripped it open. The moment the contents were on the table, Angel looked   
at the blond, who stared at him through wide eyes. "Are you thinking the   
same as I?" she asked.  
  
"Yes," Angel confirmed. "I should call Cordelia immediately," he pulled his   
cell phone from his pocket. "And while I'm at it," he said, "You should call   
Xander and Spike."  
  
She nodded, the phone already in her hand, "And after that I'm calling the   
pizza delivery service." She smiled when she saw him raising a brow, "We'll   
get hungry soon. And as I see it there's a lot we have to talk about."  
  
He smiled back, and then waited for Cordelia to answer her phone.  
  
*****  
  
Tuesday, September 5th, 10.00 a.m., Los Angeles  
  
"And what does Cordelia Chase think about these?" Giles asked and put the   
pictures he'd been holding on his desk. The expression on his face was a   
mixture of disbelief, worry and anger. If the situation hadn't been that   
serious it would've been almost funny to seem them all playing out on his face..  
  
"Probably the same you do," Angel replied rubbing his eyes and exchanging a   
look with Spike who was sitting by his side. It had been a long night with   
Xander, Doyle and Cordelia in Buffy's apartment, sorting through the   
contents of the envelope and discovering things none of them had thought   
possible. "I'd say the evidence is pretty obvious."  
  
Giles sighed, raked a hand through his hair. When he caught the eyes of the   
two detectives looking at him expectantly, he nodded, "Yes, yes, I agree,"   
he said. "There's not much to say. These pictures tell their own story.   
Still, I have trouble believing my own eyes."  
  
"It's never easy to see evidence against a colleague," Spike remarked.  
  
"I've worked with this person for a long time. I've trusted-" Giles stopped   
himself, shaking his head again in disbelief. When Spike and Angel had   
entered his office this morning he'd already known that it wouldn't be   
something pleasant they had to tell him. The expression on their faces had   
been grim, their movements agitated, but there had also been an underlying   
weariness. And Giles had instantly known what it meant. They'd identified   
the dirty cop. And they hadn't liked it one bit.  
  
Angel couldn't sit any longer so he stood up from his chair and walked   
towards the window, staring into the outer office. Buffy looked up the very   
same moment and their eyes met. A long look passed between them. A look that   
spoke of love, friendship, understanding and the sharing of the same   
undeniable truth. Not taking his eyes from the blonde's face, he asked,   
"What are we going to do now? I mean, yeah we do have the pictures and they   
tell us who the person is, but that's still not enough. We need more to make   
this case waterproof. Cordelia says she needs more to be absolutely certain,   
to convince a jury hundred percent."  
  
"Damn," Giles swore under his breath but the others heard it nevertheless.   
"I hate this. But I agree it's not enough for a jury. A smart lawyer could   
turn it upside down. Well, you have to continue following the person, I   
guess."  
  
"There's just a problem, Sir," Spike said slowly, for the first time using   
the word "sir".  
  
Under normal circumstances Giles would've been tempted to grin, but as it   
was, his expression stayed grim and unmoving. "Yes?"  
  
"With the Finn-incident a week ago, I think it's a safe bet that it's out   
there that we're working for Internal Affairs."  
  
The lieutenant swore again, and then exhaled sharply, "Yeah," he said   
finally, "you're probably right." He slapped a flat hand on his desk, "God,   
dammit, that's a bloody mess." Raking his hand through his hair, he exhaled   
again, "Okay, let's deal with what we have. There are these," he pointed at   
the pictures scattered over his desk, "and we have the letter from Finn,   
where he tells us all he knows. Even that he was blackmailed, because his   
sister was his weak spot, and although he tried to be careful, he obviously   
wasn't careful enough. But he's dead now and not able to certify his written   
statement by testifying in person."  
  
Not able to sit any longer, Giles stood as well and jammed his hands in his   
pockets, "So although we do have his written word, we can't use it. To top   
this our suspect probably knows that you're on his trail. What a mess. What   
a bloody mess."  
  
"Buffy and Xander are going to tail him," Angel spoke after a moment of   
silence, then with a last glance at the blond in the outer office her turned   
towards Giles. "Our suspect doesn't know they're involved as well. They   
arrived later when Riley was shot, there's no way they'd connect them with   
the IA-investigation. It's pretty unlikely to use detectives from the   
department to spy on their colleagues. So I think, nobody will suspect   
them."  
  
Slowly Giles nodded, "Alright. Buffy and Harris are going to take care of   
our suspect. But I want you to stay in contact with them."  
  
"That goes without saying," Angel replied, hating the situation more by the   
second. Of course Buffy and Xander were trained and experienced cops. Of   
course they knew how to act in such a situation. But his gut turned into one   
gigantic knot at the thought of the woman he loved being exposed to danger.   
Not that she wasn't exposed to it every day, she was a cop after all. But   
this was different. They were going against a powerful enemy, and besides,   
this was his job. He was supposed to take care of the dirty cop, not Buffy. He   
was supposed to face the danger, not a woman who just went through an   
emotional roller coaster.  
  
"We'll be connected to their car all times," Spike stood now as well. "We're   
their backup."  
  
"Alright," Giles nodded, "let's do it."  
  
Spike nodded back and slipped from the office. Angel was about to follow him   
when Giles' voice held him back. "Yes?" he asked.  
  
"I heard you stayed with Buffy this past week," the lieutenant began.  
  
Angel frowned slightly at that, "Yeah, and?"  
  
"I suppose I don't have to tell you how vulnerable she is at the moment. The   
news about Riley and Mike, Riley's death... Be careful with her. Don't hurt   
her."  
  
The dark-haired man's features softened into a slight smile, "I don't intent   
to," he said. "I love her." A looked passed between the two men, before Angel   
left the office as well.  
  
*  
  
"You think," Kate said, tipping her index finger speculatively against her   
chin while she stared over the desk at Buffy, who was sitting at the other   
end of the outer office, eyes fixed on Angel behind the window of Giles'   
room, "that there's something going on again between Buffy and Angel?"  
  
"What?" Darla's head came up with a jerk. She stared at Kate for a moment,   
then turned and eyes narrowing let her gaze wander from the blond woman to   
the dark-haired man, who had been her lover what seemed like ages ago. Years   
of training made it possible that she could turn back and give her partner   
an indifferent shrug, "Who knows," she said, casting her eyes back on the   
report she was reading.  
  
Kate tilted her head and let her inquiring eyes rest on the bent head of her   
blond partner. Darla gave the picture of indifference but they had been   
partners too long, for Kate to be fooled that easily. Besides, Kate wasn't a cop   
for nothing. "Don't even try to tell me that you're not interested," she said,   
waiting for her partner's reaction. When Darla's head came up again, she   
continued, "And don't try to tell me that you're over him. You were never,   
not for one moment, over Angel Reardon. He's in your blood, honey. He's been   
ever since you laid eyes on him."  
  
"That's none of your damned business," Darla snarled, her voice barely above   
a whisper. Kate Lockley might be her partner, and she was a damned good one,   
but the two women had never been friends, and Kate certainly wasn't someone   
Darla would confess to.  
  
Kate laughed slightly, knowing that she'd hit right on the money. "Whatever   
you say, Darla. Whatever you say," she grinned now, tipping her finger at   
her chin. Buffy was reading a file now and Angel was talking to Giles   
again, "But I would bet a year's salary that something's going on there."  
  
*****  
  
same day, 2.00 p.m.  
  
"Listen to me," the voice growled at the other end of the line. "They know.   
They know everything. I need to get away from here."  
  
Floyd Brady, David Griffin's right hand, and if you believed rumors on the   
street, one of the most vicious people on this planet rolled his eyes,   
"Don't panic," he said, clearly annoyed. He hated weakness and fear and it   
was panic that came through the line. "They don't know a thing. If they did   
they'd arrested you by now. But you're still running around free."  
  
"Is that meant to make me feel better?" the voice hissed now. "Because it   
doesn't."  
  
"Stay put," Floyd replied and waved one of his hands in, signaling him to   
sit down. He took the sheets the other man handed him and only   
half-listening to what the detective was saying on the phone, scanned their   
content. At the end he nodded to the man opposite to him with a question in   
his eyes.  
  
"It just came in," the man, who called himself Lyle, reported. "It's hot   
news."  
  
"Agreed," Floyd, said, shifting his attention back to the phone. "Listen,"   
he hissed, "Listen to me. Stay put. Don't do anything stupid. We'll take   
care of the rest. Behave normal. And don't call again. If you need to know   
anything, I'm going to contact you."  
  
"But-"  
  
"No buts, do you hear me? We're doing this my way now." Without waiting for   
a reply, he shut off the phone. "Idiot," he muttered, then sighed and   
scanned the papers in his hand again. Looking up he gazed at Lyle, "That's   
really interesting. So Finn has kept records, huh? Damn," he slapped his   
hand on the desk, which made Lyle jump in his chair. "Why didn't anyone   
check this before Zack took care of him?"  
  
"W-well," Lyle stuttered, knowing how easily his boss' temper could blow up.   
"W-we didn't know about the brother."  
  
"Obviously," Floyd replied bitingly. "Well, the damage is done. There's   
nothing we can do now. But, as I said before, if the proof was good enough,   
they would've already arrested our contact. But they haven't. And that tells   
us two things. The proof isn't enough *and* they're going to try to find   
more. They're going to try to make this waterproof." He smiled, a very slow   
smile, Lyle had seen before, and it send shivers down his back, "Get me Zack   
on the phone, I think I need him for another job."  
  
*****  
  
same day, 8.00 p.m., Los Angeles  
  
Putting the fork down, Buffy sighed in contentment and gazed at Angel over   
her kitchen table with a smile, "That was delicious. Absolutely perfect. But   
you can't go on doing this."  
  
He smiled back at her, "All I did was call the restaurant and they   
delivered," he replied, "Oh, yeah, and I set the table. Really hard work,"   
he ended with a grin."  
  
"It's very sweet. But it's not what I meant, and you know that, Angel,"   
Buffy said, leaning her elbows on the table and resting her chin in the palm   
of one hand. "What I meant is, you can't keep spoiling me like this. Angel,   
you've more or less lived here ever since... Anyway. This has to stop, I'm a   
grown up person, and I can't go on using your friendship. I need to take my   
life in my own hands again."  
  
His smile faded and he put down his own fork with great care, "Is that how   
you feel?" he asked slowly. "That we're friends?"  
  
Buffy frowned for a moment, then a bit irritated, she replied, "Well, yeah."  
  
A tight fist seemed to squeeze his heart and Angel felt as if he'd been   
punched in the gut, but managed to sound cool, "I see," he said,   
concentrating on breathing slowly, not to lose control. He didn't know why   
her answer surprised him so much. Sure, they had kissed once, outside the   
Splash, and yeah, she'd reacted, passionately even, but of course that   
didn't have to mean anything. What had been one of the most intense moments   
for him might have just been a spark of passion for her. He had been so   
sure, she had felt it too, but then, he barely knew her anymore. Four years   
had passed and although they had spent the last week more or less together,   
nothing in her behavior had hinted more than friendship.  
  
She must have sensed the change in his mood because suddenly uncertain, she   
reached over the table and covered his large hand with her small one, "Or   
did I get that wrong?" she asked anxiously, "I really want you to be my   
friend and I want to be yours. That's important for me."  
  
Slowly he raised his head and his eyes met her pleading ones. And if it   
might kill him, how could he say no to those eyes, "No, you didn't get that   
wrong. Of course I'm your friend." She let go of his hand and obviously   
relieved sank back into her chair.  
  
"Good," she smiled. "Still, I think it's time for me to get my life back in   
order. And to start I need to sleep on my own again. It was wonderful of you   
to stay here. It made me feel safe and all, but you have your own   
apartment."  
  
Okay, if she wanted it that way, friendship it was. He closed his eyes for a   
moment, then took a deep breath and said with forced cheerfulness, "That's   
true, although I'm not so sure that Spike and Dru will be so pleased about   
my return."  
  
Her eyes widened for a moment, before she said, "So this is serious, huh?   
Who would've thought? They are so... different, I guess. Spike is tough and   
forward while Dru's so shy."  
  
"Spike only seems forward. He's actually quite vulnerable, just covers it up   
very well," Angel told her, carefully holding on to his control.  
  
"Really?" she asked, and then shrugged, "Well, he certainly does it well. I   
would've never guessed it. But Dru was hot for him the moment she saw him."   
She rolled her eyes and laughed, "'He's so cute', she said."  
  
They laughed for a moment, and then silence settled over the kitchen.   
Clearing his throat, Angel pushed his chair back and stood. "I'm just   
putting the dirty stuff away, then I'll be gone."  
  
"Oh no," she stood as well. "I can't let you do that. You ordered the food,   
and set the table. The least I can do is clean up afterwards. Besides, I   
don't want to keep you, if you have better things to do," she said quickly,   
averting her eyes and reaching for the dirty plates.  
  
The moment Angel saw her taking them with trembling fingers he understood.   
God, he really was an idiot. Why hadn't he seen it before? "Buffy," he said   
and when she didn't look at him, just continued collecting plates and   
silverware, he repeated, "Buffy. Look at me."  
  
Slowly her head came up and he could see tears in her eyes. Reaching out he   
took the forks from her hands, "You don't want me to go, do you?" he asked,   
his eyes never letting go of hers.  
  
"Wha-" her voice cracked and she had to clear her throat, "I don't?"  
  
Slowly he shook his head and took her hand in his, pulling it to his mouth,   
while his eyes were still holding hers captured. With great care he planted   
a kiss on each of her fingers, then turned her hand and planted another on   
her palm.  
  
He felt the shiver running through her arm and her body, heard her breath   
catch in her throat, "I already told you that the past is the past," he said   
quietly, "This is the future, Buffy. What are you afraid of? Is it really   
just friendship you want?"  
  
"I-" her voice cracked a second time, and annoyed with herself she shook her   
head, then let out a little self-conscious laugh, "I hurt you very much   
and... And I know you said you don't blame me... and... And I know you   
kissed me, but that doesn't have to mean anything... and-"  
  
Her rambling ended in a gasp when he pulled her to him, "You're thinking too   
much," he growled and her eyes widened in surprise, "Why don't you try   
feeling for a change?" he asked, and covered her lips with his.  
  
The instant his lips met hers, passion slammed through him like an   
unstoppable runaway train. Touching her face, deepening the kiss, wasn't   
enough, he realized with a mixture of joy and despair. God it would never be   
enough. He wanted her, all of her, wanted to devour her, wanted to strip her   
naked and kiss every part of her body, and then he-  
  
Panting he pulled back, tempted to smile when he saw her closed lids, her   
parted lips, slightly swollen from his kiss, "Do you still want me to go?"   
he whispered against her mouth.  
  
Her eyes opened slowly, and she looked at him from them, glazed over with   
passion that made his groin tighten, "No," she whispered back. "I don't want   
you to go." And with this she pulled his head back down.  
  
Her lips parted, and her tongue flicked out, tracing his mouth, probing for   
entry. He groaned, and thrust one hand into her hair, pulling her even   
closer, her hot mouth tightly locked with his, he clamped his other arm   
around her hips, dragging her soft body against his groin.  
  
His mind and body had been waiting for this so long it was like touching   
fire. He had the feeling that he wasn't able to move anymore, wasn't able to   
breathe. All he could do was feel and taste. Her silken lips against his,   
her breasts pressed to his chest, her hips undulating against his growing   
erection.  
  
There was a split second when he might have been able to pull back, but then   
she moaned in his mouth, her arms tightening around his neck, and Angel was   
lost. His heart was in frenzy, his body was screaming for fulfillment, while   
light seemed to explode behind his eyes. This was Buffy, this was what   
he had dreamed of in the nights of four long, lonely years and now she was   
here, in his arms, and wanting him the same way he wanted her.  
  
He made a low sound in his throat and lifted her in his arms. Without   
breaking the kiss he walked towards the living room, stripping him and her   
in the process. When they finally reached her couch, they were standing in   
front of each other in their underwear.  
  
She opened her eyes for the second time tonight, when he broke the kiss for   
a moment, and looked around a little bit disoriented. "Buffy?" he forced   
himself to ask. She nodded, and that was all the invitation he needed.  
  
Their lips met again, and Angel instantly deepened the kiss with a deep,   
slow slide of his tongue, tasting her tenderly, thoroughly this time. Then   
his mouth left hers and began to explore, nipping at her neck, at her   
earlobe, his lips whispered over her face, her chin, down to her throat,   
along the line of her bra and he felt her arch her back to him.  
  
"You're beautiful," he murmured, "so very beautiful."  
  
She moaned again, pulling him closer, her hands traveling lower, tugging at   
his boxers, and he helped her get rid of them. With another move he'd   
removed her slip and her bra and then it was skin to skin, with no more   
barriers, no more layers between them. They were laying on the living room   
carpet, the moon shining through the window, bathing the two bare bodies   
into a silver light.  
  
Angel continued kissing her body, his mouth traveling lower, his tongue   
darting in her belly-button, circling it, the action making her moan again.   
"Angel," she hissed, almost mad with passion.  
  
"Easy, baby, easy," he murmured again, breathing kisses against her inner   
thighs, then traveling up again, until he found her already dripping center.   
He heard her drawing a sharp breath when his tongue stroked slowly over her   
clit, and she buried her hands in his hair, her hips arching against his   
mouth.  
  
"Oh God," he heard her moan. "Oh God, Angel. No, I want..."  
  
"What?" he looked up, "What do you want, sweet?"  
  
"I want you," she croaked.  
  
"You've got me," he said with a smile in his voice, lowering his head again.   
But her hands held him back. "No," she shook her head wildly, her eyes   
opening, she looked at him frantically, "I want you inside of me," she said,   
already spinning out of control, "I want to come with you inside of me."  
  
Her words made his restraint snap. He moved upward, grasped her waist and   
roller her on top of him.  
  
Her eyes flew open, "Angel, what-"  
  
Without words he curled upward to take her nipple into his mouth. She cried   
out at the pleasure. Angel made a rough sound in his throat and took her   
nipple between his teeth, rubbing them across, while he shifted her in his   
lap, his arousal teasing her dripping entrance. "Oh... God," she gasped,   
wiggling to get him inside of her.  
  
He shifted her for a second time, pulling her legs on either side of his   
hips, clamped his hands on her waist, lifted her for a moment only to   
bring her down on his aching, rock hard erection. Buffy hissed again,   
feeling him fill her, feeling every inch of him entering her. Her eyes   
opened and widened, her breath caught. He smiled into her eyes and then   
brought her down the rest of the way.  
  
The world exploded in a shower of stars and Buffy screamed, clutching his   
shoulders, holding him, and craving him.  
  
With a fluid motion he rolled them around, so that he was on top, still   
deeply imbedded in her and then he started to move. "Open your eyes," he   
ordered, and she did, "I want you to look at me," he told her, his voice   
almost a growl.   
  
Buffy had the feeling she would either dissolve or die. It   
was too much. It was too good, too...  
  
Suddenly his big body tensed above hers, he began to shudder, a low moan   
coming from his mouth and with a final trust he cried out her name, "BUFFY!"  
  
That was enough for her, the expression on his face, and the expression of   
love in his eyes, the way he cried out her name - it drove her over the   
edge. With a sob she followed him into oblivion.  
  
*  
  
It was some time later until Buffy found enough energy to open her eyes   
again. They were still intimately entwined, Angel still lying partly on top   
of her on the living room floor.  
  
Feeling her move under him, he opened his eyes as well, "I'm sorry," he   
said, his voice sleepy, "I didn't mean to crush you."  
  
"No," she tightened her arms, to hold him in place, not willing to let him   
go. "I like feeling your weight," she protested, but he nevertheless rolled   
them around so that she was now lying on top of him.  
  
"I'm too heavy," he said with a smile, one hand coming up, tracing the line   
of her brow. "Especially with the carpet underneath us."  
  
"That's what I was wondering," she replied resting her chin on his chest.   
"Why didn't you take the bed?"  
  
"I'm not really interested in making love to you in a bed where you and..."   
he just trailed off, but Buffy had no problems understanding him.  
  
"Riley and I never made love there."  
  
"Oh, sure, you were married for four years-"  
  
"Three and a half, we were only living together for three and a half," she   
insisted.  
  
"Okay, so three and a half," he replied, annoyance rising in him. Did one   
time more or less matter? "But you can't tell me you never slept with him."  
  
"I didn't say that. Of course I slept with him," she told him and when he   
raised a brow, she slapped his shoulder, "Don't look at me like that. I said   
we never made love. How could we?" her voice changed all of a sudden, "You   
can only make love when it means something to you, and I can only make love   
when I'm in love, so as far as I'm concerned I made love only with one man   
in my life."  
  
His throat was suddenly dry as emotions were threading to choke him. With a   
muffled sound, he pulled her close and held her. He was a bit rough, but   
they both didn't care, "God, I love you," he said hoarsely, kissing the top   
of her head, his hands warm on her back.  
  
"You... love me?" her eyes were suddenly moist and she was staring at him   
with disbelief.  
  
"Of course I love you," he replied. "I never stopped loving you."  
  
"Oh, Angel," now she couldn't stop the tears anymore. "I love you too. I   
love you so much. I never stopped either."  
  
"There were days," he admitted, his voice hoarse, "when I thought I'd die. I   
missed you so much. I-" he shook his head, blinking tears away, the emotions   
too deep to put into words.  
  
"It was the same for me," she assured him, pressing her mouth to his chest,   
inhaling his scent, loving the smooth feeling of his skin under her lips.   
"And I thought you'd never forgive me for what I'd done," she admitted   
brokenly. "I love you," she cried, her mouth, wet with her tears and soon   
with his met his again. "Please love me, Angel. Love me."  
  
"Always," he replied and they lost themselves in each other again.  
  
... to be continued 


	9. Chapter 9

Unforgettable - Part 9  
By Jill  
  
Wednesday, September 6th, 7.00 a.m., Los Angeles  
  
Buffy woke up slowly, and the first conscious thing she noticed was that   
they were still lying on the living room floor. She smiled to herself   
thinking about Angel's remark about her bed. No, *their* bed, she amended   
silently, sadly.  
  
Angel was right. It had been hers and Riley's bed. For three and a half   
years they had shared it. Although for the last one and a half she'd been   
more or less sleeping on the sofa, avoiding any physical contact with her   
husband whenever possible. She'd been too disgusted by his behavior, by the   
change in his attitude, to even like when he touched her hand. Looking back,   
she couldn't understand why she hadn't divorced him long ago.  
  
She started when she suddenly felt a finger touching her forehead and   
opening her eyes, she saw Angel propped up on his elbow looking down on her,   
his fingers smoothing the frown away that had appeared on her forehead.  
  
He smiled when her eyes made contact with his, lowered his head and kissed   
her gently. "Good Morning," he whispered, his lips only an inch apart from   
hers.  
  
She smiled as well, "Morning."  
  
His fingers stroked her forehead again, "Heavy thoughts?" he asked a bit   
concerned. After their frequent lovemaking last night he had hoped for her   
to wake up with a smile on her face, but instead he'd been greeted with a   
heavy frown.  
  
Buffy sighed, pulled his hand down and kissed it, "Not really," she replied.   
"I was just wondering why I didn't file for divorce long ago. Why I stayed   
with Riley for so long."  
  
He bent down and kissed her again, this time his lips lingered a while   
longer, his tongue tracing her lips, then nibbling them slightly with his   
teeth. "Don't," he said softly, "there's no reason to dwell in the past. You   
can't change it. We have to look forward, not backward, Buffy."  
  
She sighed again, "I know. It's just so hard. So much has happened. I still   
have problems believing we're really here, together." She reached out and   
traced his brows, his nose, then his lips, "I love you so very much. And I'm   
so sorry. For the way I behaved, you know. When Mike died-"  
  
"Shhh," he interrupted her, "I told you it doesn't matter anymore."  
  
"I know. But I want to explain. I need to explain." Her eyes looked up in   
his pleadingly.  
  
"Okay," he retorted, smiling gently. "Explain. I'm listening."  
  
"I was so happy when I was with you. I think... no, I know, I'd never been   
happier before. It was so wonderful, and sometimes... Sometimes I just   
couldn't believe this was real. Do you remember when we went to the beach   
with Mike?" She saw him nod and went on, "That day was perfect. I was laying   
in your arms that night so afraid, that something would destroy our   
happiness." She paused when her eyes suddenly became moist, "Two days later   
Mike was killed."  
  
"Oh, Buffy," he said and kissed her again. "Oh, Baby."  
  
"It was terrible. I loved Mike. But as long as I had you I could deal," she   
continued, "But then the forensic report came and my world fell apart. *I*   
fell apart. And Riley came to pick me up. He was very gentle, very loving   
and he told me he loved me over and over again." She shook her head, "I   
still don't remember all the details. But by the time I started thinking   
straight again, I was already married for three months. Riley was nice and I   
made myself believe I could make it work.  
  
"You left L.A. and I convinced myself that you hated me. Cordelia laughed   
when I told her. She said you couldn't hate me even if you wanted."  
  
"Cordelia said that?" he asked, shocked.  
  
"Yeah," she replied on a smile. "She never liked Riley. When I told her and   
Willow I was going to marry him, she looked at me like I'd suddenly grown   
horns. She refused to come to the wedding, and when I found out that Riley   
was cheating on me, she just raised one eyebrow and had that 'I-told-you-so'   
expression written allover her face. She said I should divorce him   
immediately. But I couldn't, oh Angel, I couldn't."  
  
"I know," he said and pulled her close, "I know. And I understand. You don't   
have to explain that. Riley was my friend. For a very long time. And there   
were many good times. I liked him; at times I even loved him. Like a   
brother. It was easy to fall for his charm and sense of humor." He took her   
chin between thumb and index finger and tilted her head so that she had to   
look at him, "Buffy, I would never blame you. When I came to your wedding,   
it was my last attempt to... I thought I could make you see. When you sent   
me away, all my dreams shattered, I couldn't do anything but leave. I   
couldn't stand by and watch you married to my former best friend.  
  
"And New York wasn't bad. Besides the fact that I missed you like crazy, I   
learned a lot there. Although L.A. is a big city too, it's completely   
different from New York. And I met Spike. He's a damned good cop and one of   
the best guys I ever met."  
  
"I already realized that you were much more than partners. I think you   
aren't even that close to Doyle."  
  
"I haven't seen Doyle for a very long time," Angel replied, "He and Cordy   
came to New York twice during the last four years. You don't want to, but   
you *do* lose contact. There isn't a lot to talk about if you don't have   
things to share. Spike and I worked together for nearly four years. Day   
after day. He saved my life and I probably saved his in return. It's what   
happens between partners. You know that."  
  
She nodded, "Yeah. Xander says that there are things he can tell me that he   
can't his wife."  
  
"I wonder what he means," Angel muttered, but she had heard him and smacked   
his chest with her palm.  
  
"Angel! Xander's okay. It's just that Anya isn't a cop. She never was. She   
doesn't know the really ugly details of our job. And Xander, as so many   
other cops, tries to keep the ugliness away from her and the baby. And so   
when he can't deal with things he doesn't want to bring home he talks to me.   
We're working together eight ours a day, five days a week, sometimes even   
more."  
  
"Yes," he agreed. "Anyway. Spike never let me down. I would trust him with   
my life. And I hope he feels the same. And we shared another thing. He came   
to New York, because he fell in love with a girl. Left London and his work   
and followed her. Cathleen was a model. She was very pretty, very successful   
in her job, and cold as ice. He asked her to marry him. Her reply was to ask   
him if he was insane. If he really thought she'd give up the opportunity to   
marry a rich guy for a cop. So there we were, our hearts broken, the job to   
keep us going. We understood each other."  
  
Her voice was small, when she asked, "And you think it will heal?"  
  
Not understanding he asked, "What? What do you mean?"  
  
"You said your heart was broken, and-"  
  
"Oh, Buffy," he pulled her close again. "That's just a saying. Yes, I was   
heartsick, and I missed you like crazy. But holding you now, being with you   
now, it's like the ultimate reward. It's so right." He kissed her quickly   
and swallowed a sudden tightness in his throat away. His voice was rough   
when he added, "You better realize that I don't plan to let you go - ever."  
  
Her own eyes moist, she snuggled close, "Yeah? That's good, you know.   
Because I don't plan to let you go either."  
  
For a moment he held her so tightly to him that she had problems breathing.   
But she didn't mind. The shudder that went through his body told her how   
deeply he felt her words. "God, I love you," he said after a moment, his   
words muffled as he buried his lips in her hair. "I love you so damn much."  
  
"The same here," she sighed happily, reached up and pulled his head down.   
"Could you kiss me again?" she asked breathily against his lips. "Just so   
I'm sure that's not a dream."  
  
He smiled, "If it's a dream then we're dreaming together."  
  
*****  
  
Spike's waking wasn't of the same pleasant quality. Although it had started   
quite promising. He had been having the most wonderful dream. He was laying   
on the beach, the sun shining down on him and turning around he saw Drusilla   
beside him, clad only in a sorry excuse for a bikini. He sighed in   
contentment and reached out his arm to stroke her creamy skin only to come   
in contact with... nothing.   
  
Which was odd, because he had a very clear memory of falling asleep with a woman   
in his arms.  
  
In confusion his eyes flew open and he had to blink several times to notice   
that he was not on the beach, but in his bed, and to his surprise the spot   
beside him was really empty. "Dru?" he asked, slowly sitting up and rubbing   
his eyes. "Dru, where are you?"  
  
When he heard no reply, he rolled himself out of bed and stepping into his   
boxers stumbled towards the living room and stopped dead in his tracks. She   
was sitting in the loveseat that was turned towards the window staring   
outside. She wore nothing but his blue dress shirt, her bare legs and feet   
tucked underneath, her arms wrapped around her body as if she was cold. Her   
eyes far away, she appeared suddenly very vulnerable and fragile.  
  
"Dru?" He said her name softly, trying not to startle her. But there was   
something settling in his stomach at the sight of her, some sense of   
foreboding he didn't like at all.  
  
There was a flicker of her lids, but besides that he saw no reaction.   
Tentatively he stepped closer, not liking the way she seemed to be cut off   
from the world, "When did you get up, pet? Aren't you freezing?" He finally   
came to stand beside her and reached out to touch when her low hiss let his   
arm freeze in mid-air.  
  
"Don't touch me." She didn't change her position, didn't loose her arms,   
just sat there and stared into nothingness.  
  
"Baby, what-" he reached out again and this time she reacted, violently.  
  
She slapped his hand away and jumped up, bringing as much distance as   
possible between her and him, "I said. Don't. Touch. Me." she hissed again,   
her eyes dark and cold with anger. "I thought this time, falling for a cop,   
I finally got it right," she said. "But it seems, I'm still the stupid idiot   
I've always been." Her voice was bitter, and she ended the sentence on a   
self-disgusted snort.  
  
He looked at her in utter confusion, "What are you talking about? I don't   
understand." He made a step into her direction, but she held out a hand.  
  
"Don't come near me," she warned. "And don't think I'm a fool either. I   
might be stupid when it comes to men, but I'm a cop and you better not   
forget that."  
  
Slowly his confusion was replaced by anger, "What," he asked again, his eyes   
narrowing slightly, "are you talking about?"  
  
"What I'm talking about?" She threw his words back at him as if they were   
the most ridiculous question to ask. Then she turned her head slightly and   
nodded towards the desk.  
  
Spike turned as well, and when he saw what she was talking about he   
blanched. It was his and Angel's assignment for their work in L.A. Spike had   
no idea where Dru had found it, but it didn't change the facts that she now   
knew. "Oh God," he said, a tremor in his voice. "Oh God," he repeated, his   
eyes flying to her face, "Dru, Baby, please if you'd just listen-"  
  
"No," she cut him off sharply, "I'm not going to listen. There is really   
nothing you could say to change the facts. You're working for Internal   
Affairs. Angel does too. Tell me, Spike, is it satisfying to have your work   
done in bed?"  
  
"That's not-"  
  
"No?" her brow rose mockingly, "You didn't just combine fun and the job? Who   
is meant to watch me?" she asked. When she saw him shake his head, she asked   
again, her voice rising, "Who is meant to watch me? Answer me!"  
  
He swore viciously under his breath, "I am," he bit out. "But it's not what   
you think. I did not, I repeat, I did not think about the investigation when   
we..." he stopped, disgusted with himself, "I'm not explaining this very   
well, I-"  
  
"Oh, you're expiation is alright for me. I understand, believe me, I   
understand only too well," her voice was bitter and he could hear the hurt   
underneath.  
  
God, he would give everything to change what she had seen, but he couldn't.   
All he could do now was trying to explain and hope she'd understand. She had   
to understand, she was a cop after all, and she should know what it meant to   
be assigned to certain job. "No, you don't," he said firmly, taking one step   
towards her. "I got to watch you because Angel was too close. He erased you   
from the list of suspects right from the start."  
  
A fond smile flickered over her features, before her eyes cooled down again.   
He saw that she wanted to say something, but he didn't let her, "You are a   
cop, damn it. Dru, you know how that works. I had a job to do and did it.   
But I fell for you so hard and fast that I lost my objectiveness too."  
  
She looked at him speculatively for a moment, "When was the last day you   
watched me?" she demanded.  
  
He swore again, averted his eyes, "Last Monday," he replied honestly.  
  
Her voice was carefully controlled, "I see," she said slowly. "We were   
sleeping together the night before and the night after. Well, that explains   
it, I think."  
  
With two steps he was standing right in front of her, "No, it doesn't," he   
shouted, planting his hands on both sides of her against the wall, "It  
doesn't explain a single thing. It's the job I have to do. You aren't on my   
list of suspects, but I can't change what I do. So I watched you. To bring   
them a report that says you're clean."  
  
"Oh," this time she raised both brows, "I see. You're only doing this to   
exonerate me, right?"  
  
"Exactly," he replied, relieved she seemed to understand. Her next word told   
him clearly that his relief had come too soon.  
  
"Well, thanks. I didn't even realize I needed to be exonerated," she said   
sarcastically.  
  
He slammed his palm against the wall, but she didn't do so much as blink,   
"Damn it Dru," he shouted, "It's my job. When I started it, I didn't know   
you. It changed quickly, but I can't let personal feelings come between what   
I have to do."  
  
Her eyes cooled even more, and her voice was like ice, "Get away from me,"   
she hissed, and seeing that she meant it, Spike backed off. "I'm not at all   
interested in your personal conflicts. I feel used, Spike. And nothing you   
say can change that."  
  
She was already half way towards the bedroom when he whirled around, "Dru,"   
he shouted desperately, "I didn't use you. I love you."  
  
She stopped, turned slowly, an incredibly sad smile on her face, "Maybe you   
do," she said, "but at the moment, I really don't care." She closed the door   
behind her and left him standing in the middle of the room, swearing a   
vicious oath and violently raking his hand through his hair, wondering, what   
the hell he was going to do now.  
  
*****  
  
Xander raised a brow when after his second ring, not Buffy but Angel opened   
the door to the blonde's apartment. It wasn't that he hadn't expected him to   
be there. He knew that Buffy's ex-lover had spent the last week in her   
apartment more or less, but Riley'd been dead for over a week now and because   
there hadn't been any feelings between them anymore, Xander thought it was   
time for Buffy to go on with her life. Or rather for Angel to leave her to do   
exactly that.   
  
Still, he wasn't surprised to meet Angel there, Xander told himself inwardly,   
it was more the way he stood there. As if he belonged. Well, he probably   
did, Xander thought with an inward sigh. He would have to be blind not to   
see what was happening between the two of them. "Angel," he said and nodded   
at the other man, who stepped back and closed the door behind him.  
  
"Xander," Angel replied and nodded as well. "You're the last. The others are   
here already," he said and lead the way towards the living room, where   
besides Buffy, he found also Cordelia, Doyle and Spike waiting for him.  
  
"I see the whole squad is there already. Sorry for the delay," he said on a   
grin, "but Harris Junior was a bit cranky this morning."  
  
The others, except Spike, smiled at that. Doyle winked at his fiancée who   
rolled her eyes in response. When Doyle had first started talking about   
kids, she'd felt nothing but panic. First of all she wasn't mother material.   
She didn't know a thing about small children. They were crying all the time,   
if they didn't burp, eat, poop, or sleep. And if she could believe the young   
parents she met, sleep wasn't usually high on the scale. Young parents all   
suffered from sleep deprivation, and Cordelia could only guess how much   
damage that did to your complexion. But she had also noticed that strange   
dreamy look in their eyes. And day after day she found herself more curious   
to know what it meant.  
  
But there was also her career. She had worked really hard to become what she   
was today. Not quite 31 she was the assistant DA and for a woman it was a   
remarkable achievement. For a woman, she knew how that sounded, and she   
would never back down under any circumstances, but Cordelia Chase was also a   
realist, who knew that although women had the same rights as men, they still   
had to be better, work harder, and prove themselves all the time to be   
accepted in the same way. And now that she had achieved what she had worked   
for the last twelve years of her life, she didn't want to give it up for a   
baby. But she knew that Doyle wanted children, he was good with them, much   
better than she, and during the few quiet hours it worried her.  
  
"The joys of parenthood," Buffy joked, coming back from the kitchen holding   
a tray loaded with coffee. "I suppose you can use this," she added.  
  
"Did I ever tell you that I love you, Buffy Summers," Xander said   
dramatically, and grinned when Angel raised a brow at that. Oh yeah, Xander   
thought, the guy had it bad again. He sipped from his mug, "Now," he looked   
around, "I think I can get used to these meetings in Buffy's apartment. It's   
much nicer than the precinct."  
  
"I should hope so," Buffy said dryly. "I'm not sure if I should feel   
flattered or insulted that you even consider comparing my nice apartment to   
something so old and horribly furnished."  
  
Xander grinned, "Giles wouldn't like to hear that. For him it must have some   
morbid charm. The guy practically lives there."  
  
"He has no wife to go home to," Angel commented with a serious face.   
Everybody knew that the lieutenant had once been married and deeply in love   
with his wife, Jenny. Six years ago, she'd been killed, coming home early   
and surprising a man in their house. The guy had come for burglary, but had   
panicked when she'd discovered him.  
  
"True," Xander said gravely, and in an attempt to lighten the mood, he   
added, "But then, the guy's English, they're strange people." He had   
expected to at least some reaction from Spike, but the blond was strangely   
quiet, didn't even so much as to look at Xander.  
  
"Okay, then," Cordelia put her mug down and reached for her briefcase,   
"Let's discuss some things. I had a meeting with my boss and the guys from   
IA yesterday and there are several new developments you should be aware of.   
Plus, as Angel pointed out, it's pretty likely that our suspect knows about   
his and Spike's involvement, so they are more or less out," she shifted her   
attention towards Buffy and Xander, "That means you're the ones to take over   
now. Be careful so that you're not discovered. We can't afford to install   
someone new. We're too close."  
  
"That's something, I wanted to talk about," Angel said, sitting down beside   
Buffy. "We should be very careful," he went on, concerned eyes resting on   
Buffy. "As Cordelia said, we're close. And our guy might know what's going   
on."  
  
"Meaning?" the brunette asked.  
  
"Meaning that the bad guys behind our dirty friend might be royally pissed,"   
Spike replied in his friend's place. "Meaning that if they killed Riley -   
assuming it was them, and after seeing all the evidence he collected, I'd   
say it's a pretty good guess. So if they killed Riley, a cop, they certainly   
won't shy away from killing another one."  
  
Cordelia inhaled sharply, her startled gaze flying to her fiancée who just   
nodded, "God, that's making me so sick," she exclaimed, standing up and   
beginning to pace the room. "You're my friends. All of you. And I don't want   
you exposed to that kind of danger. Riley was killed with a   
long-distance-weapon. That means we don't have a chance to protect you.   
Maybe-"  
  
"We can't back down now," Buffy interrupted her, standing up as well; she   
took her friend's hand and stopped her pacing, "We're cops, Cordy. We know   
what we risk, each day we go out there to do our job."  
  
"She's right, Cordelia," Angel looked at the assistant DA, then at the woman   
he loved, "And don't think I like it. Because I don't. In fact, I hate the   
mere idea of Buffy being hurt, but she loves her job. I love mine. It's part   
of what we are. Giving it up would mean giving up a part of ourselves. What   
I said, I didn't say it to make you feel bad. I just want everyone in this   
room be aware of the danger."  
  
Cordelia looked at him for a long moment, considering his words, then she   
said finally, "Okay. We're going through with it. Besides, if I stop this   
now, my boss would eat me alive. But by God, be careful. I want all of you   
alive and well when this is over."  
  
"Hey, that's part of the job description," Xander joked, feeling anything   
but. But he could see how much Cordelia was shaken. "Didn't you know? We're   
the super-cops. We're undestroyable."  
  
Cordelia forced herself to laugh cheerfully, "Well, that's good to hear.   
Fine," she took a deep breath, "Now, let's go through the new evidence we've   
got. I think bit by bit we're closing in on our guy."  
  
****  
  
Buffy put the last mug into the dishwasher, then added some soap, when she   
caught Angel standing in the doorway, watching her. "Hey," she smiled,   
turning towards him, and barely suppressed a gasp at the intense expression   
in his eyes. "What's the matter?" she asked, walked over to him and slipped   
her arms around his waist.  
  
He sighed, pulled her close and rested his head on hers, "Promise me to be   
careful," he said, his voice full of worry.  
  
"I promise," she whispered, stroking his back. "You heard Xander. We're   
indestructible," she said in a lame attempt to lighten the mood.  
  
"Don't," Angel growled warningly. He pulled back and when she looked up she   
saw the fury in his eyes. "Don't joke about it. This is serious. Cordelia   
told the truth. We're closing in on this guy. And the men behind the whole   
thing won't like it. And believe me, they won't hesitate a second to get rid   
of a cop who'd be a danger to them."  
  
"I know that," she replied, reaching up and cupping his cheek in one of her   
hands, "Angel, I'm a cop. I know it's dangerous. I just don't want you to   
worry."  
  
"I love you," he said gruffly, "People who love, worry. That's something we   
can't change. I just got you back. I couldn't stand to lose you again,   
Buffy. I wouldn't know how to deal, I-" his voice cracked and he pulled her   
so close, that she didn't have enough air to breathe for a moment. But she   
also knew he needed it.  
  
He loosened his grip slightly then bent down, finding her mouth for a   
desperate kiss, his hands digging into her hair. When the kiss ended, they   
were both breathless for a moment, "I need you," he said, planting kisses on   
her forehead, on her lids, on he nose, then finally finding her mouth again,   
this time kissing her gently, softly.  
  
Then he sowed for a moment and pulled back completely, "I can't help   
worrying, Buffy. But that doesn't mean I don't trust your abilities. I hope   
you know that. You're a good cop. One of the best, I've ever met."  
  
She smiled rising on tiptoe she kissed him slightly, "Thanks. That means a   
lot. And I promise to be careful. You'll see. This won't go on much longer.   
With the evidence Cordy gathered already, this'll be over in no time."  
  
"Let's hope you're right," he replied, stroking the back of his hand over   
her cheek.  
  
****  
  
Simone Chambers' eyes widened when she opened the door of her apartment,   
"Mike," she said in a mixture of shock and delighted surprise, "What... I   
mean, come in," she invited with a shy smile.  
  
She hadn't expected him to come so soon, hell, she hadn't expected him to   
come at all, if she was honest with herself. Not after he'd seen the   
pictures of her and Riley. She'd broken down that day and he held her. But   
after she blew her nose and seemed stable again, he told her that he needed   
some distance, and time to think about the whole situation. She had been   
devastated. Hating Riley Finn, hating the situation, hating herself, for her   
own weakness.  
  
"Do you want some coffee?" she asked, looking at the clock. "How come you   
aren't on duty?" she wanted to know. "I'd expected you to be on a case."  
  
"I am," he replied. "But I could make myself free for an hour. There are   
things we have to talk about, Simone. And yes, I would like a cup of   
coffee."  
  
"Fine," she said, her stomach fluttering with nerves. He came to talk. Oh   
God, what could he want to talk about, she asked herself. "Why don't you sit   
down and I'll be with you in a moment."  
  
He nodded and went for the living room, while she walked towards the   
kitchen, every step torture, because her knees were like rubber, not knowing   
what was about to happen. Glancing at the ring on her hand, she suppressed a   
hysterical sob. Had he come to tell her he would give it another try or   
would this be the end? He had looked so serious, his blue eyes suddenly   
grown up.  
  
After she'd calmed down the last time they'd seen each other, he'd been   
angry. Not so much, he said, about the pictures. Although he'd certainly   
been furious about them. No, he had been angry because instead of coming to   
him, trusting him, she'd made the deal with Riley Finn. All that because her   
father was playing dirty games.  
  
She'd argued that she loved her father and that he should try to understand   
her situation. He'd replied he had, and that he understood, but that it   
still didn't change the fact that her father was a criminal and that he was   
a cop. And that in the end she had to make a decision. He had left with the   
words that she should call him as soon as she had made it.  
  
She hadn't called him so far. Torn between the love for her father and for   
Mike, she had been miserable. She knew that the things her father did were   
wrong, but he was still her father and her mother was frail after   
contracting serious pneumonia and Simone didn't know how she'd react if her   
husband was to be arrested. But she had wanted to call Mike. Day after day   
she'd glanced at the phone. She had even picked it up once or twice,   
severely tempted to call him.  
  
And now he was here. Had come to her apartment. And she knew without doubt   
that she loved him more than anything.  
  
With a shaky hand she poured coffee, spilling a great part on the counter,   
then added cream and sugar, the way Mike liked it. Taking a deep steadying   
breath, she turned and plastered a smile on her face when she entered the   
living room. "Here you go," she said and put the cup down in front of him.   
Not knowing what to do with her nervous hands, the linked them together,   
wringing them. "Now. What did you want to talk about?"  
  
"Us," he replied, sipping from his coffee. "I want to see if there's still   
an 'us'."  
  
"There is," she said quickly, urgently, "I strongly believe in that us."  
  
He nodded, his gaze solemn, "That's good, because if this, 'us', can still   
have a future is totally up to you."  
  
******  
  
Angel held Buffy close and planted a last lingering kiss on her lips before   
he released her hesitantly. "Don't forget. Call me," he told her, his hand   
running over her hair, then for a second resting on her cheek.  
  
She put her hand over his, "I will. I promise. You'll see, this will all be   
over soon," she smiled, and then turned towards her car that was parked at   
the next corner.  
  
Angel turned as well, making his way to his car that he had left at the   
opposite corner of the block. He didn't like the situation of Buffy in   
danger, but there wasn't a damned thing he could do about it. They would   
have to get through with this, and hope that nobody was harmed.  
  
He was about to turn back to catch a last view on Buffy and maybe wave her   
goodbye when there was suddenly a blinding light and explosion shattering   
through the street.  
  
Angel whirled around and his world stopped. There was no doubt what had   
happened. There was fire and smoke coming from the other end of the street,   
from the exact spot where Buffy's car had been only seconds before. Even   
from this distance it was clear and for a moment he forgot how to breathe.   
Then in pure agony he shouted her name.  
  
*****  
  
Angel stood at the third-floor window of the L.A. General Hospital, his   
forehead resting against the cool glass, his hands hidden in his pockets.   
Behind him the personnel of the hospital performed their duties, from   
several rooms he could hear beeps and the smell of antiseptic was in the   
air.  
  
Outside the window the sun was shining brightly on this Californian   
afternoon, while the streets were busy, people walking around as they did   
every day, mothers laughing to her children, none of them wearing the   
shocked expression of the people who had witnessed the explosion of Buffy's   
car, while Angel had been kneeling on the ground, his lover's bruised,   
bloody, and unconscious body in his arms, calling the ambulance at the   
same time.  
  
The rescue team who'd arrived on the scene had taken them straight to the   
hospital, where ER doctors fought to counter the effects of the deadly   
explosion. That had been two hours ago. Buffy had been wheeled into surgery   
and he hadn't heard a word since then.  
  
"Do you want some coffee?"  
  
Angel slightly turned his head and looked at Faith who was standing beside   
him, a worried expression on her face. She and Drusilla were the detectives   
called to the scene and after doing their work they followed him and Buffy   
to the hospital. "No, thanks," he replied, his voice hoarse.  
  
"Can we do anything else?" Dru came to stand beside her partner, her face   
wearing the same expression.  
  
"No," Angel shook his head. "I don't want anything."  
  
Faith nodded, then began to chew her lower lip as if considering something.   
Finally, after exchanging a glance with Dru, she said, "The bomb was   
remote-controlled."  
  
He turned his head again, "What?" he asked, as if he hadn't understood. And   
he hadn't. He wasn't able to pay real attention, his mind wandering again   
and again to the swing doors that marked the entrance to surgery.  
  
"The bomb," Faith repeated gently, touching his arm slightly with her hand,   
"It was remote controlled. From what we got from the people who were around,   
it seems that Buffy turned at the last moment to help a child who had fallen   
with his bike. That saved her life."  
  
"You don't know that," he said harshly, looking out of the window again.  
  
"Yes, we do, I talked to the mother-"  
  
"That it saved her life," he interrupted angrily. "She was alive - barely.   
But the doctor said it's a close call."  
  
Faith blanched and pulled her hand away, while Dru stepped closer, "Angel,   
Faith didn't mean-"  
  
He stopped her with an impatient gesture of his hand, "I know," he said and   
shook his head, "I'm sorry. I'm..." he trailed off, sighing and shaking his   
head again.  
  
"We know," Drusilla said softly. "But she's strong, Angel. She'll make it."  
  
He managed to give her a grateful smile, but didn't comment it. He couldn't   
talk about it. Hell, he could barely bring himself to think about the fact   
that the woman he loved more than anything was laying on an operation desk,   
fighting for her life. He had never felt so helpless as he felt right now.   
Buffy was hurt, maybe dying, and there was nothing he could do.  
  
They all looked up when they heard people running towards them and then   
Cordelia, Xander and Spike appeared at the end of the hallway. And they were   
running. Panting they came to a stop in front of them. Reaching for Angel's   
arm, Cordelia tried to catch her breath, "Angel, oh God. How is she?"  
  
"Still in surgery," he replied. "We don't know anything so far. It's a   
miracle that she's still alive."  
  
Cordelia blinked sudden tears away, trying to keep herself together. She   
could see that Angel was on the edge and she couldn't fall apart now. "What   
happened?" she wanted to know and listened intently, as did Spike and   
Xander, when Faith told them what they had found out.  
  
Angel tuned their voices out. He couldn't listen. He knew what had happened,   
and he didn't need to hear it again. Someone had placed a bomb under Buffy's   
car and it had exploded when she'd come near. Only the fact that she had a   
soft heart and had tried to help a child had saved her life. For now. He   
took a deep breath, holding a tight rein on his emotions. He wouldn't help   
her if he let go now. She would need him, later, when the doctors were   
through with her. And if... he closed his eyes tightly... No, he couldn't   
imagine the worst. She had to make it through it. She just had to.  
  
He started when he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder, "You holding up?"  
  
"Yeah," Angel replied glancing over his shoulder at Spike, then straightened   
and turned fully around. "I'm not going to fall apart. There's too much to   
do. She's going to need me and then there's the person who did this."  
  
Spike nodded, squeezing his friend's shoulder, "That's the spirit. And we'll   
get them. The cop, and the men behind all this. The lieutenant will be here   
in a coule minutes. He was out of town this morning and needs to drive   
back."  
  
The dark-haired man nodded, then looked at the swing-doors again. "I love   
her, Spike," he said, "I can't lose her."  
  
"You won't. She loves you too, man. And she's a fighter. I'm sure she   
doesn't want to leave you."  
  
Angel released a pent up breath, "God, I hope you're right. I don't know   
what to do if..." he trailed off, not able to voice his worst nightmare.  
  
*  
  
Two hours later they were still standing in the hallway in front of the   
swinging doors waiting for news of Buffy. A nurse had come out, but besides   
a compassionate smile she hadn't been able to give them anything. Giles had   
tried to give them hope by saying that it was a good sign if it lasted long.   
The lost cases were given up easily. But somehow it didn't help.  
  
Angel was standing with his back at the wall now, his head leaned back too, his   
eyes closed. They had tried to talk to him, but after a while they caught on   
that all he wanted was to be left alone.  
  
Willow and Xander had joined the crowd some time ago and were waiting with   
the others now, the redhead pale and sniffling quietly, her head resting on   
her childhood friend's shoulder, her thoughts with her wounded girlfriend in   
the operating room.  
  
Combing her hair away from her face, Cordelia sighed and looked around just   
in time to see Spike glancing at Drusilla then quickly turning his head away   
when he saw her looking at him too. The brunette lifted a curious eyebrow   
and walked over to the blond detective.  
  
"Do I see clouds in the sunny sky?" she asked, glad for any distraction from   
the heavy thoughts in her mind. When Spike turned to look at her with a   
question in his eyes, she said, "I got the impression that you and Dru were   
an item now. So I'm just wondering if there's already trouble in paradise."  
  
Spike glanced quickly into Dru's direction and then narrowed his eyes at   
Cordelia. "Hey, don't eat me alive," she said, "I just couldn't help   
noticing the... uh... hostile atmosphere."  
  
"She found out why I really came to L.A.," he said curtly.  
  
"I see," she said after a moment. "Well, I can understand why she's angry."  
  
His head jerked around, "You, what? You were the one who started the whole   
mess, and now you understand *her*?"  
  
"Whoa," Cordelia held up a hand. "You agreed to work for IA. And just for   
the record. I didn't start this mess. Our suspect did." She paused for a   
moment, eyed him carefully. "You love her, huh?"  
  
"Yeah, damn right, I love her," he ground out between gritted teeth. "Not   
that it concerns you."  
  
"Does she love you too?"  
  
"Hell, if I knew," he replied, closing his eyes. "She never said a word   
about her feelings. If I just..." He opened his eyes with a snap, "Well,   
it's no use now. She hates me. She thinks I used her. That I used the   
opportunity for a close observation with a little bit of good old sex thrown   
in."  
  
"But you didn't. And maybe you should try making her see that," she   
proposed, "You made a mistake and you know that. The moment you realized   
your feelings for her, the moment you became involved with her you should   
have told me."  
  
Spike let out a harsh breath, and ran a hand through his hair, "Damn, I know   
that. I just thought..." he shook his head, disgusted with himself, "I was a   
bloody damned fool. And I have no idea how to make her see that."  
  
"You will." Cordelia put a hand on his shoulder, "If she cares about you,   
she'll listen."  
  
He looked at her doubtfully, "And if not?"  
  
"Well," the brunette said, compassion in her eyes, "Then you've got all the   
answers you need."  
  
Spike gazed at her for a long moment, and then nodded slowly, "Yeah. You're   
right. The question is, if I can live with it."  
  
*  
  
Everybody looked up when the swinging doors finally opened, and a doctor   
came out, his clothes drenched in sweat, he was removing his hat, and   
running a hand over his wet skull. "Mr. Reardon?" he looked around and then   
nodded when Angel stepped forward. "Yes," he said, his voice barely working.  
  
"She's alive," the doctor started, getting relieved sounds from all sides.   
"It was close," he went on. "Her spleen was ruptured and we had to remove   
it. Her liver was ruptured as well, but we managed to sew it up. There was   
some damage to her intestines, but that was only a minor complication. Our   
biggest problem was her blood loss, but after hours of hard work," he smiled   
wryly, "and the help of modern technique, her constitution is steady at the   
moment." Looking directly at Angel, he added, "If there aren't any more   
complications, I'm quite optimistic. As I said, it was a close call, but   
she's a fighter, she never gave up." He nodded again and was about to leave,   
when Angel held him back.  
  
"Can I see her?" he asked.  
  
"She'll be moved to the ICU now and she needs rest," he smiled again, "but   
you can see her for five minutes. I'll inform the nurse. She'll get you   
later and take you there."  
  
"Thanks," Angel said, and there was a world of meaning in this one word. The   
doctor understood. It hadn't been the first operation of this kind for him.   
He knew what relatives and friends went through in such situations and he   
knew that they could hardly find words afterwards. "It's my job," he said   
simply and left.  
  
*****  
  
"She's alive," the voice on the other end of the line hissed angrily. "The   
bitch is alive."  
  
Floyd Brady almost dropped the expensive Cuban cigar he'd been lighting only   
seconds before. Swearing viciously, he looked at Lyle over the desk, "What   
do you mean she's alive?" he asked.  
  
"I thought it was easy to understand. She survived the attack. Your man made   
a mess of this."  
  
"He doesn't make mistakes," Floyd replied, putting his cigar down, reaching   
for a pen instead. "He never did before."  
  
"Well, he did this time. Summers survived. The doctor said she's going to be   
fine. The news is allover the precinct. The lieutenant just announced it   
with a big grin on his face."  
  
Floyd swore again, while he was busy scribbling something on a piece of   
paper, then handed it over to Lyle, whose eyes widened when he saw what his   
boss had written. "It doesn't really matter if she survived or not," Floyd   
told the cop at the other end of the line, "It was meant to be a warning and   
I think they understood it nevertheless."  
  
"Just don't do such a sloppy job again."  
  
"Don't threaten me," Floyd warned.  
  
"I'm the one on the front line. Tell Griffin, I'm going to expect a raise   
for... let's call it growing danger. It's my head they'll be cutting off if   
they ever find out."  
  
"They won't," Floyd replied, slamming the receiver down. "Idiot," he hissed,   
and then remembered that Lyle was still sitting opposite to him. "Why are   
you still sitting here? You've got an order."  
  
"But boss-"  
  
Floyd raised a brow, as if to tell the other man that he wasn't used to have   
his decisions questioned and Lyle shut up immediately, "Get this on the way.   
Zack will know what to do and tell him... if he fails me again, it'll be the   
last time."  
  
*****  
  
same day, 10.00 p.m.  
  
Buffy opened her eyes slowly, blinking against the bright light that came   
from the ceiling, irritated by the beeping noises around her. Where was she?   
It looked and smelled a lot like a hospital, but why would she be at a   
hospital, she wondered. She remembered starting the day in Angel's arms,   
making love to him, then they Cordelia and the others had arrived and then -   
nothing. She couldn't remember a single thing. How very odd.  
  
She tried to move, and a sharp pain shot through her whole body, making her   
groan. God, what had happened to her?  
  
"Buffy?"  
  
"Angel?" she said and was glad she was able to turn her head without pain.   
She stifled a gasp when she saw him sitting beside her, his eyes tired and   
red-rimmed, a stubble allover his chin, while deep worry lines had etched   
into his handsome face. "What... what happened?"  
  
"Don't you remember?" he asked, worried.  
  
She shook her head and groaned at the new pain. Mental note, no fast   
movements, she thought. "No. I... it's so muddled." There was a note of   
panic in her voice. What had happened? Had she lost her memory? Why didn't   
she remember?  
  
"Shhh," he said and pulled her hand to his lips, kissing it softly. "Your   
car blew up." He saw her eyes widen, "Yeah. I thought you..." his voice   
broke and he had to start again as he fought the horrible images that were   
still in his minds. Images of Buffy's car bursting into flames, the smoke,   
and then finding her bruised body on the pavement, refused to leave alone.   
"I thought you were dead," he managed finally. "I thought I'd lost you." He   
buried his face in her hand for a moment, savoring the warmth of it, then he   
kissed the pulse at her wrist, the sign that she had managed to pull   
through.  
  
She wetted her dry lips, "Wha- what happened to me?"  
  
"You were in surgery for over four hours," he told her, holding her hand in   
his, needing the contact, the assurance that she was truly alive, that he   
wasn't dreaming. "They had to remove your spleen. But the doctor assured us   
that you could live without it. Your liver and gut was damaged too, but the   
doc put you back together. He said you were great in there, a real pro." He   
wasn't able to keep his tears at bay anymore and they ran freely over his   
cheeks now.  
  
With all the emotions she felt in her eyes she looked at him, reached up   
with her hand and touched his lips with her thumb, "I love you," she   
whispered.  
  
He kissed her thumb, "I love you too. I love you so much."  
  
"I know," she smiled now, and then yawned.  
  
"Sleep," he whispered. "I'm staying. I'm your personal bodyguard and have to   
stay anyway."  
  
Her smile widened, "Good," she said, already half asleep. "Love you."  
  
He kissed her hand again, wiped his tears away. "I love you too, baby," he   
whispered, "I love you too."  
  
... to be continued 


	10. Chapter 10

Unforgettable - Part 10  
By Jill  
  
Friday, September 8th, 10.00 a.m., Los Angeles  
  
"I want this over."  
  
"I understand," Giles said gently, looking at Angel's back. The dark-haired   
detective stood in the middle of the Interrogation room at Internal Affairs,   
staring at the one-way mirror, while Cordelia, Spike, and Xander were   
sitting at the desk with the lieutenant. Tim Philips, the District Attorney,   
and Brent Harley, the boss of I.A, had joined the little group.  
  
It was the first meeting they held since Buffy had been so seriously injured   
by the bomb that had been planted underneath her car on Wednesday.   
Fortunately she was making unexpected progress and had been moved from ICU   
to a regular room the night before. She would, of course, need more time to   
heal properly and it would be at least a week before the doctors would even   
consider releasing her. But Angel was finally able to function again with the   
encouraging development.  
  
Giles could understand better than anyone how it felt to see the woman you   
loved so close to death. He remembered being in with the ambulance with   
Jenny on the way to the hospital and he could also remember seeing her die   
in that car, only five minutes before they reached the Emergency Unit. He   
had loved her with all his heart and in a matter of minutes she'd been taken   
away from him.  
  
He had been like a ghost afterwards, only his work keeping him upright and   
able to go on. The years that followed had been long and empty and filled   
with grief. But it had been years now and lately he found himself more and   
more tired of coming back into his empty house night after night. There were   
no arms waiting for him, nobody was meeting him there, talking to him,   
giving him warmth and love.  
  
"I do too."  
  
Giles forced his thoughts back to the more pressing matters, when Cordelia's   
voice sounded through the room.  
  
"But although I want the person responsible for Buffy's accident-"  
  
"Someone blew up her car," Angel interrupted, his voice low and angry, his   
eyes blazing at her, "I'd hardly call that an accident."  
  
Knowing Cordelia's temperament, Giles had expected for her to give Angel   
some snotty reply, but the assistant DA obviously had realized how tightly   
strung the dark-haired man's nerves were at the moment. Better not ignite an   
already smoldering live wire.  
  
"I'm sorry," she said softly, looking apologetically at Angel. "I agree. The   
expression was a bit... uh... off. Anyways. I want the person as badly as...   
almost... everyone else in this room." She glanced at Angel again and he   
took a deep breath and returned the apology with his eyes.  
  
Giles was sure that the dark-haired detective wasn't feeling apologetic at   
the moment. Angel wanted to go out and beat the crap out of the person who'd   
set the bomb under Buffy's car and out of the person who'd given the order   
to do it. And more than anything he wanted the dirty cop who'd been going   
against his fellow officers, people who'd saved that person's ass more than   
once.  
  
Well, tough luck, Giles thought. Angel's going have to wait in line for that   
special punch, because Giles felt a certain itch in his right fist too. Of   
course he was a police officer and that would prevent him from making good   
on his silent threat. But he sure as hell would be part of the interrogation   
team. He wanted to look that person in the eye and hear with his own ears   
what had happened to turn a good, reliable cop into scum.  
  
"What Miss Chase wants to say," Tim Philips said, "is that we're going to   
get those guys. All of them. But we need to do it right. The legal way.   
Nothing else. I know how you feel-"  
  
"I'm sorry to interrupt you, Sir," Xander spoke for the first time, "but you   
hardly understand how we feel. One of our own colleagues is part of an   
operation that almost cost the life of another colleague. A friend. Buffy   
Summers. No Sir. You have no idea how we feel."  
  
"I accept that," Tim Philips replied on a nod. "Maybe I don't really   
understand. But that doesn't change a thing. I'm just warning you. Don't   
pull some private Vendetta here. I know your girlfriend, your friend or   
colleague was hurt. Seriously hurt, but-"  
  
"Make that life-threatening," Spike threw in, hating the fact that he had to   
listen to this. He glanced at Angel whose hands were clenched into fists,   
and who, so the blond could see, was fighting not to lose his control. Spike   
knew how he felt. Well, not exactly, of course, but he hadn't seen Drusilla   
in 48 long hours. He had tried to call her, wanting to talk, wanting to   
explain. So far she had blocked every attempt.  
  
Damn. He loved her. Couldn't she see that? Why on earth couldn't she see   
that he was missing her so badly he'd hardly slept the last two days? God,   
he was going to go crazy sooner or later. But maybe she wanted that. Maybe   
she wanted him to do something stupid, like grovel in front of her door.  
  
The worst, however, was that he would grovel. He wouldn't hesitate for a   
second if he'd see a chance to change her hostile attitude. But at the   
moment, he saw none.  
  
Zilch. Zero.  
  
She didn't so much as look at him.  
  
He wanted to scream. But of course he knew that it wouldn't help either.  
  
"Yes. Life-threatening," Tim agreed with a nod, his eyes sharp, holding a   
silent warning. "To make this totally clear here, detectives. I want those   
assholes. But I want a case that cannot be twisted around by some smart,   
very expensive lawyer, who spends his holidays in Aspen by defending slime.   
There will be no Lone Ranger playing. You will do this by the law. Each   
step. Is that understood?"  
  
He looked around and when nobody said a word, he nodded again. He turned his   
head and gazed at Brent Harley, "What about Judge Fowler. Did he sign the   
papers?"  
  
"Yes," Brent smiled, but it was so cold, it could have turned the Sahara   
into ice. "He signed them. He didn't want at first, but I reminded him of   
something," he shrugged, "Well, I knew something. We'll leave it at that. We   
can start this thing, the moment you give your okay."  
  
"See it as given," Tim replied, and this time his eyes fell on Angel,   
"Detective Reardon, I need to be sure that you're able to do this. You have   
to be absolutely sure that you won't snap."  
  
"I'm not going to blow this case," the dark-haired man retorted. "I've got   
this covered. The person was close to everyone of us, not just to me."  
  
"Yeah," Xander agreed, and then amended his statement by adding, "but she   
was a lot closer to you. A hell of lot closer. At least for a while. So you   
should know her better than we do. Are you sure it will work?"  
  
"Yes," Angel's voice was firm, "It will. I have to make the final phone-call   
and afterwards, the show is on."  
  
****  
  
"I'm scared." Simone Chambers turned to look at her fiancée, her eyes huge   
and frightened, her lips trembling, while her hands were wringing the hem of   
her shirt.  
  
"I know," he replied gently, crossing the room and taking her in his arms.   
"I am too. More for your than my sake. But I also know that if we want any   
kind of future together, this has to be done." He reached up and traced the   
line of her delicate cheek with his forefinger, "I don't want you to go to   
jail, baby. I want to live with you, preferably for the rest of my natural   
life," he smiled, "I also want a baby with you, or maybe even more than one.   
But that can only work if we're clean here."  
  
Although his words sent a warm shock through her whole system that was the   
temperature of ice at the moment, she shivered in his arms, "I want all   
those things too," she admitted, her voice quivering. "I love you so much.   
But my father-"  
  
"Has done all these things by himself. Your father is a smart man, Simone.   
He did what he did with open eyes, and aware of the consequences. I know you   
love him, and I can only try to understand what this will cost you, but he   
can't expect you to close your eyes all the time." Suddenly his smile   
vanished and the look in his eyes was hard, "And he certainly can't expect   
you to sell yourself for him."  
  
"Mike-"  
  
"No," he shook his head, covered her lips with his for a moment, soothing   
her with the kiss, soothing him by the connection. She was here in his arms   
and he would keep her safe. "I told you, I don't blame you. At least not anymore.   
But I do blame your father. I know, he knows nothing of what you did for his   
sake, but without his doing these things you wouldn't have been forced to do it   
in the first place."  
  
"Sometimes, when I sleep," she whispered, pressing her cheek against his   
chest, "I can feel his hands on me. His laughter in my ears. And I want to   
die in shame."  
  
"God, baby." Mike's voice was hoarse. It was a pity that a sniper had shot   
Riley Finn. He would've gladly gone and ripped the asshole's heart out. He   
knew that Riley had been blackmailed himself and that he'd done what he'd   
done only to save his sister's life, but that didn't change the fury Mike   
felt each time he thought that his colleague had forced himself on Simone.  
  
"I'm so glad you don't hate me for it," she said, her voice quivering again,   
"I couldn't live thinking you hated me."  
  
"I love you," he told her firmly. "And we're going to get through this. And   
then we're going to have the future we're dreaming of. You have to believe   
me."  
  
"I do," she whispered, holding him close, pressing herself even closer. And   
she did. She believed him. But she also knew that believing wasn't always   
enough.  
  
When the phone finally rang, they pulled away from each other and looked   
into each other's eyes.  
  
The show would begin.  
  
****  
  
Darla Massey narrowed her eyes and glanced at her sister through the mirror,   
"I cannot believe you're so stupid." She shook her head, "After all the   
things I had to do to clear up this mess for you."  
  
Diana studied her long red fingernails and snorted, "What *you* had to do?   
Gee, should I sink down on my knees and thank you for it now?"  
  
"No," Darla replied, still stunned that a person who looked so much alike   
she, could be so completely different. The sisters or rather twins, had   
never been close. Only recently it had changed. But not because they wanted   
it to. "I don't expect you to thank me. But when this is over, I don't want   
to be bothered with your life ever again."  
  
"My life?" Diane raised a haughty brow, "At least I have something   
resembling a life. You on the other hand, dear sis, have spent your best   
years lusting after a guy who never really wanted you in the first place."  
  
At the mention of Angel Darla whirled around, her eyes blazing with fury,   
"Don't you dare to bring him up. Angel is absolutely none of your business.   
I'm only here because *you* needed my help. It's also the most stupid thing   
I've ever done in my life. I betrayed the department, I lied to my boss and   
my colleagues and I did other things I'm not very proud of. Only to save   
your sorry ass." She laughed slightly, but it wasn't a happy sound, "No,   
please don't thank me. Just stay out of trouble in the future. That's thanks   
enough."  
  
"How was I to know that David Griffin was a drug dealer?" Diane asked. "He   
was so nice to me. A real gentleman."  
  
"Some gentleman," Darla snorted, then sighed in defeat. Her sister would   
never change. If she never saw her again, it was still too soon. Not that   
she didn't love her sister, because she did. She had always loved Diane. Why   
else would she do the things she'd done over the past months? But Darla was   
sure she would love her sister even more from a safe distance. A phone call   
once or twice a year would be enough.   
  
She was contemplating how to tell her sister exactly that, when suddenly   
her cell phone rang.  
  
*****  
  
same day, 2.00 p.m., Los Angeles  
  
"Hey, how're you doing?"  
  
Buffy smiled and slightly lifted her head from the pillow to see Willow   
entering her hospital room. "Hey, Will," she greeted her best friend.  
  
"You look much better today."  
  
The blond rolled her eyes, "Gee, that's flattering. Knowing that I looked   
like death just yesterday, I'm not sure I should see that as a compliment."  
  
"You never looked like death," the redhead replied firmly, pulling up a   
chair to the bed and sitting down. "You almost died, Buffy. You had us   
really scared there. Especially Angel," she said with a look that spoke   
volumes. "Speaking about him. Where is he? I thought I'd see him still glued   
to your bed?"  
  
"He came early in the morning, after the first night he didn't spend at the   
hospital" Buffy told her, her mind wandering to the man she loved and to the   
danger he was in at the moment. He had told her that they would have a   
meeting at IA and later he had called her, to inform her that the show was   
on. Suddenly realizing that Willow was looking at her expectantly, she tried   
not to think what could happen right this moment, while she was lying in a   
hospital bed, forced into doing nothing.  
  
"Something urgent came up," she explained her friend, hating that she   
couldn't tell her the truth. True, she wasn't actually lying to Willow,   
something urgent had come up, but holding things back from her best friend   
was harder than she'd expected. But Tim Philips had made it perfectly clear   
that nothing was going to be revealed as long as they hadn't tied up the   
case.  
  
"More urgent than you, huh?" Willow asked, smiling. "I suppose the world's   
coming to an end then," she joked, "because I just can't see anything else   
that could remove him from your side." She reached out and took her friend's   
hand. "See, I told you from the start. I knew you would get back together."  
  
Glad that the redhead had changed the subject, Buffy smiled back, "I thought   
he hated me. But he doesn't. He said he didn't blame me anymore. God, Will,   
I love him so much."  
  
"I know," Willow squeezed the hand she was still holding. "Oz sends his love   
by the way," she said then.  
  
"How is the expectant father doing?" the blond wanted to know.  
  
"He's in a permanent state of panic most of the time," the redhead answered,   
patting her still flat abdomen. "Who would've thought that a taciturn guy   
like Oz could be like that?" She shook her head and chuckled.  
  
Buffy looked at her friend, happy for Willow's happiness, for the joy she   
saw in redhead's eyes over their baby and she found herself hoping for the   
same some day. She sent another silent prayer to every god that was   
listening, that they would keep Angel and all her friends safe. She glanced   
at Willow again. Willow, her trusted friend for more than 15 years, Willow,   
who had never betrayed her, and never lied to her, and always, stood by her.  
  
Screw orders, she needed to talk about it. Now. Or she'd go mad, "Will,"   
Buffy began, squeezing her friend's hand, "I have to tell you something.   
Something you're probably not going to believe at first..."  
  
*****  
  
"The subject is entering the warehouse from the back."  
  
Spike's voice came clearly through the ether, and Angel shot a glance at   
Xander who was sitting beside him. Behind the two detectives, Cordelia Chase   
was biting her nails. Under normal circumstances it would've made Angel   
chuckle. Her nails were holy to the brunette. The fact that she didn't care   
at all about them at the moment spoke louder than thousand words.  
  
"Is the identification hundred percent positive?" Angel could hear Tim   
Philip's voice speaking through the same radio. The DA was sitting in a car   
together with Rupert Giles and Drusilla, who'd been taken into the team at   
Spike's mention that she already knew what was going on. He hadn't   
elaborated that statement, but Angel had a certain idea why his friend had   
been so cranky recently.  
  
To tell the truth, he hadn't even noticed it at first. He'd been too   
concerned about Buffy, to notice anything by her. But Cordelia had pointed   
it out this morning and as Angel had seen Spike after his breakup with his   
former girlfriend, he had a pretty good guess that only Drusilla could be   
the source of his foul mood. He had no idea what exactly had happened, but   
made a mental note to talk to the blond detective as soon as this was over.  
  
"Yes," Spike replied. "Positive. And now subject number two is arriving as   
well," he went on, "Bingo," he shouted, and Angel could hear the   
exhilaration in the other man's voice. He was as eager as everyone else to   
finish this case and go back to normal.  
  
Normal.  
  
Whatever that was going to be. Angel wasn't quite sure what normal would   
mean to him... and Buffy. Yes, they had told each other that they were still   
in love. But love was one thing, the future another. Was she ready for a   
future with him? Because, he sure as hell wanted a future with her. They had   
already lost four years. And only days ago he had almost lost her   
completely. All he wanted was to hold her close and never let her go again.   
Preferably by putting a ring on her finger and carrying her off to a   
happily-ever-after. The only question was, did Buffy want that? After what   
she'd been through with Riley, was she ready for another commitment that   
would bind her to a man?  
  
The back door of the car suddenly opened, and Mike Harmon slipped into the   
seat beside Cordelia. "Hi guys," he said, his face a mask of stone. Somehow,   
Angel thought, it was comforting that he wasn't the only one who'd gone to   
hell. Mike was just going through his own, private one. His fiancée would   
face mortal danger in just a few minutes and all he could do was pray it   
would be all right in the end.  
  
"Mike," Xander turned slightly in his seat and nodded at the younger man.   
"How's she holding up?"  
  
"Barely," Mike replied. Combing his fingers through his short hair, he took   
a deep breath, "Simone is scared shitless, plus she's got all the guilt on   
her shoulder regarding her father. She knows that we're going to arrest him   
today if everything goes as planned and it's tearing her apart."  
  
The radio in front cracked and then they heard Spike's voice again. The   
blond detective was located on a roof behind the old warehouse and watching   
the scene to report what was going on. "Holy sh- sorry, Sir," he apologized,   
obviously remembering that the District Attorney was part of their team   
today, "Damn, I wanted to say. Our friend Griffith brought some sort of army   
with him. I can at least count ten armed men."  
  
"Ten!" Xander exclaimed incredulously. "Holy cow."  
  
"That's what I call a tight security." Cordelia's voice held a trace of   
sarcasm, but there was also a hint of admiration in it. You could say a lot   
about David Griffith, but you could hardly call him careless or stupid.  
  
"Yeah," Angel said through gritted teeth. This was going to be a rough game.   
Damn it. He was thinking about a future with Buffy. Hell, he should probably   
pray that he was going to survive today and then hang on his daydreams. Ten   
armed men. Damn, damn, damn. And he would be in the middle of it. And Simone   
and...  
  
He closed his eyes for a moment and forced himself to calm down. Panic   
wouldn't help anyone. At least Buffy was far away from this. At least she   
was safe now. He didn't even want to imagine how he'd feel if she was part   
of this. He had deliberately not told her what was going to happen today,   
how dangerous their plan was. He didn't want her to worry, but somehow, in   
the depth of her hazel eyes he'd seen she already knew.  
  
Angel quickly glanced at Mike Harmon through the rear mirror. His face was   
locked up, the jaw set, the set of his shoulders showing the nervous tension   
that was probably searing through him, hell, it was in all of them. But it   
was his eyes that gave him away. There was fear in them, but there was also   
determination, to get the job done. Mike Harmon would become a very fine   
detective, Angel was sure of it. One of the very best.  
  
"All players on board," Spike's voice came again. "Repeat. All players on   
board. It's your turn Detective Reardon." There was a short pause and then   
he said, "Be careful, Angel. I would really miss you."  
  
Despite the situation Angel had to chuckle, "Thanks. Just cover my back."  
  
There was no reply. Without a doubt that was because Spike had already left   
the roof and was changing locations so that he could help Angel if needed.   
The dark-haired detective felt a hand on his shoulder and turning his head   
he saw Cordelia looking at him with concerned eyes. He covered her hand with   
his and squeezed it, "Keep your fingers crossed," he said and left the car.  
  
*****  
  
Simone Chambers tried to keep the tremble out of her hands so that nobody   
would notice that she was scared witless. Never before, not even when she'd   
realized what Riley Finn was planning with her, had she been so afraid. She   
was emerging the limousine with her father, holding on to his offered arm   
and walking to a warehouse that could become her deathbed if anything went   
wrong today.  
  
Mike. She desperately tried to think about Mike. His smile. His lips. His   
gentle hands. His love. He was everything she'd ever wanted and now she   
could lose it in a matter of minutes.  
  
"Are you alright, honey?" she heard her father ask and nodded   
absentmindedly.  
  
"I'm fine," she assured him. "I think I've got a slight case of flu."  
  
Derryl Chambers stopped and with concern his eyes rested on his only child.   
"You should've stayed at home then. I know it was your idea to come with me   
and I'm glad that you're interested in my business, but I don't want you to   
overexert if you don't feel well."  
  
She gazed up at him. Her father was a tall man and she had to tilt her head   
to look into his familiar blue eyes. She remembered all the things Mike had   
told her about her father's business and only at the very last moment   
managed to stifle a cry of agony. Could it really be? Was her father the   
kind of monster, Mike had described? Was it possible that the man, who had   
held her, read stories to her when she'd been a little girl, was it possible   
that this man could be part of David Griffith's organization? God, she   
didn't want to believe it.  
  
"I'm fine, Daddy," she replied, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. "No   
need to worry. I'm dying to learn more about your business. I'm your only   
heir, Dad, I should know all the important things."  
  
"Yes, you keep saying that. And you're right," he suddenly frowned, then   
sighed, "Still, I want you to tell me if you get tired."  
  
Could this concern be a fake, she wondered. Could all his love, his   
affection been false? God, please, don't let it be true. Don't let him be   
involved in murder and other horrible crimes. "I will," she managed to smile   
and followed him when he went towards the entrance.  
  
A tall and bulky man spotted them and nodded, clearly recognizing her   
father. Simone felt her hopes crumple. This man, who worked for David   
Griffin, knew her father. He knew her father. She closed her eyes for a   
second, and then opened them again. She thought again about Mike and his   
promises of love and a future together. She would concentrate on that. There   
was time to mourn the loss of her childhood illusions later.  
  
*****  
  
Willow gaped at her injured friend in the hospital bed as if she'd never   
seen her before. "Oh my God," the redhead breathed, her eyes huge and   
shocked. "A dirty cop. I can't believe it. And Angel and Spike working for   
Internal Affairs. And you. Oh, Buffy."  
  
"I'm sorry, Will. I'm sorry, I couldn't tell you the truth. We were sworn to   
secrecy," Buffy explained, squeezing the redhead's hand that was still   
laying in hers.  
  
"That's not it," Willow shook her head, to clear the confusion in her mind.   
"I understand, why you had to do it. I'm a cop too remember? Granted, I sit   
at the computer most of the times and do research and other boring stuff,   
but that doesn't mean I don't understand. But a dirty cop," she shook her   
head again. Suddenly her eyes were sharp and inquiring, "Who?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Who is it?" she asked, looking intently at Buffy. "Do you know who the cop   
is?"  
  
Buffy took a deep breath and returned her friend's intense stare. This was   
the tricky part. She wasn't supposed to give that kind of information away.   
Tim Philips would certainly kill her for it. On the other hand. The show was   
going down today, so what could it hurt? So she pulled Willow close and then   
whispered the name in her friend's ear.  
  
The redhead's eyes widened even more, and she pulled back, not really able   
to believe what she'd heard. But Buffy's eyes were so serious, there was no   
doubt she meant it. Still, it made no sense, why would that person...  
  
As if the blond had sensed Willow's thoughts, she said, "It's the money.   
It's about a hell lot of money, Will. And that's what frightens me. Because   
the moment money is involved people don't care about who's hurt anymore.   
Plus they're cornering in on them right now." She took a deep breath, her   
voice suddenly shaking, when she added, "And Angel's right in the middle. He   
didn't want to tell me, Will. But I know. He's going to be right in the line   
of fire."  
  
*****  
  
"Diane." David Griffin's eyes lit up when his eyes fell on the blond who   
was walking into the room. "How good of you to come."  
  
"David," Diane turned the corners of her mouth up in what resembled a   
flirtatious smile. "I couldn't believe it when I got the invitation," she   
slightly turned her head, her gaze flickering to one of David Griffin's   
bodyguards. "And you even delivered it personally, you shouldn't have." Now   
her eyes narrowed and her voice was dripping with sarcasm.  
  
The same instant David's eyes cooled as well, "I had the feeling you   
wouldn't come otherwise."  
  
Diane didn't comment that, but her eyebrows rose when she saw Derryl   
Chambers and his daughter coming through the door of the warehouse. "More   
guests?" she asked, looking back to David.  
  
"As a matter of fact," he replied, and she saw a flicker of astonishment in   
his eyes. He clearly hadn't expected for Simone to accompany her father.   
"Derryl, my old friend," he stood from his desk to greet the two people.   
"And the beautiful Simone. What an honor."  
  
Derryl Chambers gave David Griffin what could be called a regal nod, while   
Simone forced herself to extend a hand and endure the kiss the older man was   
breathing on its back. David Griffin might be a gangster, but etiquette was   
important for him. Only at the last moment Simone stifled a noise of   
disgust. And this moment, for the first time in her life, she hated her   
father. For disguising her, for lying to her, and that he put her through   
something like that. For his hidden black heart.  
  
"Mr. Griffin," she forced herself to say.  
  
"David, please," he replied with an elegant bow, his eyes traveling over her   
form, resting on her breasts and Simone suppressed the urge to knee him in   
his groin.  
  
"Come on," he turned and started towards the back part of the warehouse   
where several men were waiting for them and a blond woman, Simone recognized   
as Diane Massey, Griffin's girlfriend. "Let's get to business."  
  
*****  
  
Angel ducked in the shadow of a tree while he approached the warehouse,   
hoping that nobody saw him before he'd arrived at his destination. He was   
already close when Spike suddenly spoke through the headset he was wearing.   
"Last subject not at the meeting point. Repeat. Last subject not at the   
meeting point."  
  
Angel stopped instantly, his blood turning to ice. "What do you mean," he   
asked, his voice carefully controlled, "last subject not at the meeting   
point? I thought you said all players on board."  
  
There was a short silence, but Angel was sure he heard his friend curse in   
the background, then Spike's voice came back again, "It's my fault, buddy. I   
thought she was there. But obviously there are look-a-likes running around."  
  
"Damn," Angel cursed as well and leaned against a near by tree, his legs   
suddenly feeling weak. The person they were looking for, the dirty cop was   
not on board. Where the hell... and then it hit him like a bullet through   
the guts. Buffy. The target was Buffy. God, he was such an idiot. She had   
been a target before. The bomb had been planted underneath her car.  
  
Starting a dead run back to his car, he shouted through his microphone,   
"Cover. I need someone to cover me in this operation. And I need a free line   
to the hospital. NOW," he bellowed. His lungs were burning already, but he   
didn't slow down, if anything, he even increased his speed.  
  
"I'm covering you," Spike replied through the headset. "Repeat. I'm taking   
your place. Go," he shouted, obviously having the same thoughts. His next   
words made it clear. "Take care of her."  
  
Buffy had been Riley's wife. And they had killed Riley because he knew   
something. It had to be the pictures that Riley's brother had brought them.   
They just had been too stupid to see it. The attack on Buffy hadn't been a   
warning for them. It had been an attempt to kill her. Her. Riley's wife. The   
most likely person to know about his secret. Divorce or no, they had been   
close for a long time. Dammit, he thought desperately, finally reaching the   
car where Mike, Xander and Cordelia were already waiting for him.  
  
"Do you have the line to the hospital?" he asked breathlessly.  
  
"What the hell is going on?" Cordelia wanted to know, but was handing him   
her cell phone.  
  
Ignoring her question, he took it, "Faith? Is everything clear? ... Good.   
Any visitors? ... No? That's ... WHAT? WHO? DAMMIT ... I said no visitors   
without my direct ... Never mind. Forget about it. It's not really   
important."  
  
He turned and looked at Cordelia, then at Xander, "Willow is with Buffy at   
the moment," he told them, repeating what Faith had told him just before,   
his eyes grave. Turning his attention back to the phone, he said, "Listen to   
me now, Faith. This is important. I have to tell you something, you're going   
to hardly believe, but you have to. There is a dirty cop... yeah, a dirty   
cop..."  
  
He was talking to her while getting rid of his headset and signaling Xander   
to come with him. "Faith, wait a moment," he said, and turned towards   
Cordelia. "I have no time to explain this. But subject one is at the   
hospital this very moment. Spike can explain. I have to go. If anything   
happens to Buffy, it'll be my fault."  
  
With that he slipped into the car and continued talking to Faith, while   
Xander was flooring the accelerator.  
  
*****  
  
Simone had the feeling as if she was walking through a nightmare. There were   
armed men. Lots of them. They were surrounding a large desk where two   
foreign looking men were sitting. They were obviously of South American   
origin, and they were smiling and joking with Diane Massey.  
  
David Griffin stopped in front of the desk, and then turned and smiled at   
Simone, "May I introduce my friends. These are Sergio and Enrique Royos.   
Guys, this is Simone, the daughter of our friend Derryl."  
  
Simone was hoping desperately that the shock she felt didn't show on her   
face. Sergio and Enrique Royos. She had never met them before. But she had   
heard of them. Who hadn't? They were two of the most wanted drug dealers   
around. Both born and raised in Colombia, they had taken over the smuggling   
of drugs into L.A. from their father about five years ago.  
  
She watched when her father shook hands with them, no doubt they knew each   
other, had met before. She felt the last of her hopes crumbling at her feet,   
and again concentrated on Mike's face last night, when he'd told her he   
loved her. She would make it through this. And then she would start   
forgetting about a man who had deceived her all her life.  
  
On autopilot Simone extended her hand again for Sergio and Enrique to kiss.   
She smiled at David Griffin when he explained that Simone was accompanying   
her father to learn the business, and she even managed to smile at Diane   
Massey who she despised. The blond was nothing but a cheap whore in Simone's   
eyes, looking for the next rich lover to lead an easy life.  
  
But of course this person wasn't Diane Massey. Diane Massey was sitting in   
the precinct, guarded by two uniformed officers, while her twin had taken   
her place. Knowing that made it easier to smile at the other woman.  
  
"David," Diane/Darla was saying, while studying her nails, "can we get on   
with it? I don't have the whole day. I really need to be on time for the   
appointment with my hairdresser."  
  
David laughed slightly, and Simone saw him shaking his head. God, she wanted   
to kill the guy. Right here and now. Her father laughed too, and she felt   
sick.  
  
"Okay, guys," David turned and addressed Sergio Royos, "Show us what you   
have."  
  
"Why don't we show each other what we have?" Enrique suggested, in his soft   
accented English.  
  
"The money," David Griffin ordered and snapped his fingers at Floyd Brady,   
who appeared instantly carrying a large bag. He put it on the table and   
opened it. There was money in it, lots of it.  
  
Sergio smiled and the same moment another bag appeared on the table.   
Although she had expected it, Simone couldn't suppress the slight gasp that   
escaped her mouth when she saw little bags inside, filled with a white   
powder. No doubt it was cocaine.  
  
And then, chaos exploded. The doors of the warehouse were pushed open,   
officers and detectives were coming inside, shouting. Simone could see the   
blond detective who Mike had told her was called Spike. He was holding a   
mean looking weapon, pointing it at David Griffin, while Darla had drawn her   
own gun and held it towards Sergio Royos. It all happened so quick nobody   
had time to react.  
  
"Keep your hands up," Spike warned approaching the table. "Check," he spoke   
into his headset, "Things are under control." He ripped one of the little   
bags open, stuck his finger inside and licked it. His face split into a huge   
grin and he spoke into the headset again, "Tim, my friend," he said to the   
DA, "I think that case couldn't be tighter. About fifty pounds of nice,   
white stuff and two eyewitnesses. One of them a police officer. This is like   
Christmas, buddy." He instantly became serious, when he listened to the   
reply. "Yes, got that. Any news from Angel?"  
  
*****  
  
"Man, I can't believe this," Xander said for the umpteenth time while he was   
driving. He had tears in his eyes, but there was firm determination in them   
as well.  
  
Angel nodded absentmindedly at him, his concentration on the voice that was   
talking to him over the cell phone. "I hear you. Be careful, Faith. We'll be   
there in about ten minutes... Yes." He closed his eyes for a moment, and   
then opened them and Xander could see that he was fighting for an answer,   
"Alright. If necessary eliminate the target."  
  
He turned the phone off and stared at it for a long moment. Xander drove   
straight through a red light, ignoring the horns sounding around them,   
"She's going for Buffy, isn't she?"  
  
"Yes," Angel confirmed. "The target is Buffy because she was Riley's wife.   
She's expected to know certain things. Even though she doesn't."  
  
A tear slipped from the younger man's eye, "I can't believe it. They're   
colleagues. And I always thought we were friends. God, this isn't true." He   
shook his head, almost missing the entrance of the hospital parking space.  
  
"But it is," Angel replied and jumped out of the car. He ran towards the   
entrance of the hospital, knowing that Xander was following right behind,   
and dialed a number on Cordelia's cell phone.  
  
*****  
  
"You should rest now," Willow said, standing up and smiling down at her   
friend. "You must be tired."  
  
"I'm not that bad," Buffy replied with a shrug, wincing when the little   
movement sent stabs of pain through her whole body.  
  
"Yes, you should," the redhead said firmly. "Close your eyes, Buffy."  
  
The blond smiled at her again, and then did as told and her lids slipped   
over her eyes. She sighed, and was apparently falling asleep, when suddenly   
the phone at her bed stand rang. Her eyes opened again and with an   
apologetic look at Willow she picked it up. "Yes? ... Angel!" Her face   
brightened, and she smiled. Only a second later the smile slipped and was   
replaced by an expression of concern, then disbelief, then almost agony,   
"No," she breathed into the receiver. "Oh, no. Angel," she whispered. "Oh,   
God. ... Yes. ... Yes. ... All right. I love you too."  
  
Buffy closed her eyes for a short moment, and when she opened them again,   
she turned her head to look at Willow. Her friend, since they'd been fifteen   
years old.  
  
And she gasped.  
  
The woman in front of her wasn't the Willow she knew. It was some stranger,   
her face cold and set firmly, she was pointing a gun at the blonde's head.  
  
*****  
  
"Faith," Angel shouted racing towards the brunette detective, the phone at   
his ear. "Yes," he spoke into it, his eyes on Faith and on the man standing   
beside her, his wrist secured in handcuffs. It was David Gadget. "Yes, we've   
got him," he confirmed to Giles who was on the other end of the line. "Yes,   
I know. No, Giles, I'm certain. We always thought it was one dirty cop, but   
obviously there were two." He turned to look at Xander who had joined them,   
panting heavily, "Yes, I'm certain, the identification is positive. ...   
Yes... I know it's difficult to believe, but frankly, I don't have time for   
this now, because Willow is with Buffy this very moment."  
  
He switched off the cell, and looked at David Gadget who was staring at him   
with hateful eyes. "You're too late, Reardon. There's nothing you can do.   
The little bitch is going to die."  
  
"You bastard," Xander hissed, fighting with the tears that threatened to   
spill over. "What did you do to pull her into this?"  
  
"Nothing," Gadget replied, "It was her idea from the start."  
  
"Her-" Xander's voice cracked and he had to turn away, pain threatening to   
consume him. Willow. His longest, most trusted friend. God, this was a   
nightmare.  
  
He flinched when he felt a hand on his shoulder, "What?" he asked, not   
turning around, not wanting for anyone to see his tear streaked face.  
  
"I'm sorry," Faith said gently, nodding at the two uniformed officers to   
lead David Gadget away. "I can hardly believe it myself. I know she was your   
friend."  
  
"She's inside," Kate Lockley came around the corner, "and she's pointing a   
gun at Buffy." She looked at Angel, "What are we going to do?"  
  
"Follow me," Angel shouted at her and she ran after him towards Buffy's   
room.  
  
*****  
  
"Willow," Buffy breathed, surprise and disappointment in her voice.  
  
"Yeah," the redhead replied, shrugged and sat down again on the chair she'd   
just moved back into the corner. "Surprise, huh?"  
  
"God, Willow," the blond blinked threatening tears away. "How could you?"  
  
The redhead shrugged again, "You said it before. It's the money. Oz's   
business isn't what we need it to be and besides, I'm sick of always   
counting my money, I'm too young to not live life in the fullest."  
  
Buffy shook her head, "That's not you talking here, Will," she said, "That   
just doesn't sound like you."  
  
Willow raised a brow, quickly looked at the gun in her hand then back at the   
other woman, "You think? Well, then maybe you never knew me."  
  
"Obviously I didn't," the blond agreed, a sad smile crossing her features.   
"God, Will. You were my friend. You were my bridesmaid and I trusted you."  
  
"Bummer, huh?" The redhead crossed one leg over the other, rested one elbow   
on them. "But you said it yourself. Money makes people forget about anything   
else. I never knew I wanted money so badly until I had had a taste of it.   
It's really addictive, you know. And comfortable."  
  
"What about Oz?" Buffy asked.  
  
"What about him? He knows nothing about my... uh... private transaction   
here. But he's too tied up with his computers to even notice that there's   
more money than ever before. He actually thinks he's earned it," she shook   
her head, "He never had a mind for money. Without me the poor man would be   
lost."  
  
"I see," the blond replied. "And... what about your baby?"  
  
"The baby?" she shrugged, "What about it? It will be a happy baby. A rich   
baby. It will have all the stuff I didn't."  
  
"You actually believe you get away with this."  
  
"Of course," Willow said, standing up, and approaching the bed, the gun   
still pointing at Buffy. With a smile she reached into her pocket, produced   
a silencer, and then adapted it on the gun. "Because you're going to die.   
And nobody will ever know."  
  
"Don't do it, Willow," Buffy said, looking at her friend steadily. "You   
don't want to do it."  
  
The redhead laughed in response. A hollow sound. "Of course I want to do   
it." She chuckled, "You are so naive, Buffy. So good. So sweet. Gee, you   
can't even guess how bored I was to be close to you all the time, pretending   
I liked you."  
  
"Pretending you liked me?" Buffy asked, in total disbelief. She shook her   
head, showing the other woman how disappointed she was. "I'm very sorry   
Will."  
  
The redhead laughed again, "You shouldn't pity me. Better pity yourself.   
You're going to need it in your next life."  
  
And then she pulled the trigger.  
  
... to be continued 


	11. Chapter 11

This is the last part of the story. First of all I want to thank Angie for her   
wonderful job as a beta-reader. Without her the story wouldn't be the same.   
I know I surprised you all with Willow as the dirty cop. To tell you the truth, I wasn't sure myself who would turn out to be the one. I know it sounds strange   
because I'm writing the story, but with each chapter, Willow became more and more apparent. I am glad that you were okay with it and don't hate me for it. I hope this last part will wrap everything up... or not. I'm not talking about a sequel here, because I'm not planning one. I think the story is told. But as in real life, not everything can be resolved. And not everything has a happy ending.  
  
Disclaimer and stuff in the first part.  
  
Unforgettable - Part 11  
By Jill  
  
same day, 10.00 p.m., Los Angeles  
  
Angel couldn't stop touching her. He needed to reassure himself that she   
was, even looking pale and sad, and lying on a hospital bed, indeed alive.  
  
He would never forget the moment he'd stormed through the door of Buffy's   
room and found Willow standing in front of the blonde's bed, the gun still   
in her hand, the distinctive smell of a fired weapon in the air.  
  
And he had been sure he'd been too late. Too late to save Buffy, too late to   
make his dreams come true. But like a miracle, Buffy, summoning all her   
remaining strength, rolled away the very last moment, and so the shot had   
only hit the pillow instead of Buffy's head. It was a miracle she was still   
alive, and that her roll from the bed hadn't caused further damage to her already  
bruised and broken body.  
  
"I still can't believe it," she was saying now, fighting tears again.  
  
In response, Angel took her hand in his and kissed its back. "I know," he   
murmured. "It's really hard to believe. She was your friend for so long."  
  
She blinked rapidly and then turned her head to look at him, "The problem   
is, I can't stop wondering what part of her affection was genuine and what   
part was nothing but acting. Did she ever like me? When did it start to   
change? Did she start lying when we were in high school together? I..." her   
voice broke and silent tears slipped from her eyes. "God, Angel, how could   
this happen?"  
  
He kissed her hand again, this time its palm, and holding it in both of his   
hands, he thought about Riley and a life-long friendship that had been   
destroyed by jealousy and fate, and realized that Buffy was experiencing the   
same thing now. "I've asked the same thing myself," he said.  
  
"About Riley," she replied and it wasn't a question. She understood. "But at   
least Riley didn't try to kill you. I still can't believe she tried it   
twice. I just can't believe she was the one who planted the bomb under my   
car. How can money be more important than friendship?"  
  
It hadn't been about money in the end, Angel knew, and he told her.  
  
Confused she looked up at him, "But what about then? What pushed her so over   
the edge that she was willing to kill me? Angel, about two weeks ago we had   
lunch at Cara's. She was like... the way she always was. My friend. How   
could she lie like this into my face?"  
  
"It was because-," he began to reply when the door opened and Xander's head   
appeared.  
  
"Hi," he said, his voice blank, his eyes incredibly sad. "May I come in?"  
  
Buffy's lips twitched into the whisper of a smile, "It's the first time   
you've actually asked," she tried a lame joke, but he didn't pay attention.   
"Sure, come in."  
  
A little bit uncertain he looked at Angel, but the older man just nodded and   
stood. "I'm going to go for a little. I need some coffee. Don't make it too   
long," he said, turning at Xander, "She needs her rest." With that he   
slipped out of the door.  
  
"How are you?" Buffy asked softly, but Xander didn't look at her, just   
stared out of the window, his hands buried in his pockets. She had felt   
horrible about Willow, but now she noticed it was nothing compared to what   
her friend must feel right now.  
  
He didn't answer at first, just continued staring out of the window. Finally   
he spoke. "It's strange, you know. After we knew you were all right, and   
after Faith and Kate took... her away, I went home. I needed to see Anya and   
the baby. They were the same. Anya kissed me and my son was happy. Nothing's   
changed." He paused for a moment and took a deep breath, "And yet everything   
has."  
  
"We lost the rest of our innocence," Buffy said thoughtfully, knowing   
instinctively that he felt the same. "I already lost most of it through the   
mess with Riley, and when Mike died. But today I found out that we never   
really know another person. I'm glad Angel and I found each other again.   
Without him, I might have given up on life completely." She smiled slightly   
when he turned to her and his eyes narrowed. "Hey, I wasn't talking about   
suicide. I would've gotten through it. But I might not have been able to   
trust anyone again. And without trust life is incredibly empty. Because   
without trust there is no real friendship, no real love."  
  
"Yeah, I know," he replied, raking a hand through his short hair. "I just   
think I'll ever believe it. It's lost forever. That's why I needed to see   
Anya and our son. I needed to touch something that's good, not tainted." He   
turned back to the window again, staring into the night, hoping somehow that   
the darkness could swallow all ugliness away. Of course he knew it wasn't   
possible. "I hate her, you know," he admitted finally, "Not only for trying   
to kill you. But for stealing all the good memories I have of her. I always   
treasured our time as kids. Now it," he shrugged, a helpless, weary gesture,   
"it's all tainted. I'll never be able to think about her with fondness. And   
I really, really hate her for it."  
  
"I know," she said holding out a hand to him, glad when he came to the bed   
and accepted it. There was a long way to go, but maybe they could try to   
heal together. "It's the same for me," she told him when he sat down at the   
edge of her bed. "Angel understands it too. It might not be exactly the   
same, but Riley turned against him too."  
  
"But at least Riley felt bad for it. He hated himself so much in the end   
that he didn't even care he was dying anymore. But Willow-" his voice   
cracked and he had to swallow the lump that was forming in his throat, had   
to blink away the hot tears, a mixture of anger, disappointment and deep,   
painful grief. Helplessly he shook his head, "There was no remorse, no   
regret for trying to kill you. God, it's going to kill Oz."  
  
"Have you seen him yet?" Buffy asked, squeezing his hand, hurting for a man   
whose wife would go to jail, had betrayed him as much as her friends, and   
who was carrying his child. Oz was a taciturn man, he wasn't the kind to   
open up and talk. Would he ever get over it, Buffy wondered? Could you get   
over such a thing?  
  
"No." Xander took a deep breath and rubbed a hand over his face, stubble   
growing in. "I have no idea what to say to him."  
  
"Tell him, you're his friend and that you'll be there for him whenever he   
needs you," came Angel's voice from the doorway. He'd entered so quietly,   
they hadn't heard him. He smiled briefly at Buffy, who returned it and then   
looked at Xander again, "And he is going to need you. Willow's obviously decided   
to make a deal."  
  
Xander's eyes narrowed, "What do you mean?"  
  
"She agreed to make a full statement," Cordelia said stepping into the room   
behind Angel. She smiled at the woman in the bed, "She'll tell us everything   
she knows. About David Griffin, his organization, his contacts, and   
everything. The FBI has been informed and it looks as if she could get off   
pretty easily."  
  
"Oh, that's rich," Xander scoffed, stood and began to pace the room. "So she   
might come off with two years or what?"  
  
"She might not even be charged," Cordelia said, not liking it herself, "The   
FBI was talking about a witness protection program." She rubbed her weary eyes   
and then combed the hand through her hair.  
  
"Gee, so she just talks a little, and the reward for trying to kill Buffy,   
for deceiving all her friends, is a new name and a new life?" Xander walked   
back to the window, stared into the night again. "Man, maybe I should try it   
too."  
  
"I know it's not fair," the brunette closed the door behind her and leaned   
against it. "But David Griffin and Derryl Chambers are the really big fish   
in the water here. Willow's just a dirty cop."  
  
Xander snorted but didn't say anything. After a moment of silence, Angel   
cleared his throat, "She told Giles and the FBI that one of Griffin's   
snipers shot Riley. It seems the whole thing is pretty complicated." He   
crossed the room and sat down with Buffy. "With his sister escaped from her   
husband, Riley was forced to do something. So he did. It seems that David   
Griffin found out everything about Riley's little problem and he   
knew Eunice's husband. He threatened to expose her. He blackmailed Riley to   
force himself on Simone Chambers. Griffin needed the pictures to keep Derryl   
Chambers on track, should he ever consider leaving their little family.  
  
"Riley on the other hand blackmailed Simone, because he found out she knew   
certain things about her father. I'm not trying to find an excuse, but at   
least his blackmailing had the ulterior motive to save his sister. Of   
course, he should've told us everything and tried to find a legal way out of   
the mess. But he was already in so deep, and with the guilt he was carrying   
around regarding Mike's death, and all he had done to help Eunice," Angel   
shook his head, and smiled at Buffy when she took his hand, "He couldn't   
stand the idea of going to jail."  
  
"But why would Griffin kill him?" Buffy wanted to know.  
  
"Because he found out that Riley had stored information about him. Some kind   
of safety assurance. So he killed Riley. Then his men found the dangerous   
information Riley had hidden. Yet, it wasn't all of it. They had no idea   
Riley had sent copies of everything to his brother. So they assumed you had it.   
That was the moment it was decided to eliminate you as well. As you remember,   
there were pictures of David Gadget in the envelope. Willow obviously   
thought she was in danger of being exposed as well."  
  
Xander who had listened to the whole story, turned back to his friends.   
"Where is she now?"  
  
"They brought her to the precinct," Cordelia replied, "But the FBI wanted to   
take care of her. Why?"  
  
"If she isn't going to jail, then she's going to keep the baby, right?"  
  
"I suppose so. Oz came to the precinct," she told Xander. "He seemed to take   
it well, but that's just Oz. He never shows a lot of emotion. The FBI   
offered to take him into the program with her, but he refused. He knows that   
she's going to take the baby with her." She paused for a moment, and then   
added thoughtfully, "Maybe it's best that way."  
  
"No, it's not," Xander replied forcefully, "How can you say that? He finds   
out that his wife betrayed everyone and on top of it, he's going to lose his   
unborn child."  
  
"It'll hurt," Angel said, holding onto Buffy's hand, glad he wasn't forced   
to make such a horrible decision, "but a clear cut is the only way. For all   
of them. It's actually the baby who's going to lose the most in this. Either   
it will lose a mother or a father. And it will never know that lost parent."  
  
"God, this is such a mess," Xander crossed his arms in front of his chest   
and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes. "Why did she have to do   
this?" he asked again. "What is so wrong with this life, that she needed to   
do what she did? Can anybody explain it to me, because I'm never going to   
understand it."  
  
"Some people aren't as content as you," Angel replied quietly. "They want   
more. And they want it any possible way. That's why we're here. To get those   
who leave the legal path."  
  
Cordelia looked at the lovers on the bed and smiled, determined not to give   
in to depression, "Well, I suppose you aren't in danger of leaving the legal   
way. Speaking of being legal, my wedding's in about four weeks. How about a   
double wedding?"  
  
"Well," Buffy smiled at her gratefully, understanding what the brunette was   
trying to do. She felt terribly sad, but life went on, and looking at Angel   
she knew it had beautiful things in store for her, "we haven't actually   
talked about a date or marrying at all for that matter."  
  
"You haven't?" Cordelia asked in mocked shock. "Well, then go on, ask her."  
  
Angel chuckled, "I would prefer a more... private moment for that kind of   
thing," he told her.  
  
"Oh," she grinned. "Privacy. We can do that, can't we, Xand?" she turned and   
looked gently at her old friend.  
  
"Yeah, sure," he tried a smile and his lips twitched. "I need to go home   
anyway. I promised Anya not to be too late. See you tomorrow. And," he   
paused in the doorway, "I would like a double wedding. Hope the cake's going   
to be huge."  
  
"Love you too, Xand," Buffy said when he slipped out of the room. She smiled   
at Cordelia who followed him and when the door closed behind them, she   
turned to Angel. "I totally understand if you don't want to marry now or...   
ever. We haven't talked about it so far. I don't even know if you're going to   
stay in L.A. or if you want to move back to New York." She licked her lips   
nervously, "I mean, I don't want you to feel-"  
  
He stopped her rambling with a sweet kiss and when their lips parted he   
smiled, "I couldn't think of any better timing," he said, stroking her   
cheek. "It's like announcing that we still believe in the good things in   
life." No, they hadn't talked about their future so far, but with the events of   
the last days it was suddenly so easy to see that life was short and precious and   
that there was no time to waste a single moment of it.  
  
"Yeah," she agreed, smiling as well. "So are you going to propose, or should   
I?" she only half-joked. Inside everything was fluttering. This was about a   
marriage to Angel. Something she'd dreamed about for so long.  
  
"You might laugh at me now," he said, his face serious, "but deep inside I'm   
a very traditional kind of guy. In my eyes the man does the proposing. So,"   
he grinned and slipped from the bed.  
  
Buffy couldn't stop the tear slipping from her eyes when he went down on one   
knee.  
  
END  
  
Tell me what you thought! Flame me if you must (ducks for cover), but I'd rather prefer to get nice comments!   
Oh, and a sequel is already in the planning. If you want, that is. Cuz, there's still the unresolved issue of Dru and Spike. Who killed Mrs. Philips? What is going to happen with Willow? And Oz? And last but not least, are Buffy and Angel going to make it to the altar? 


End file.
